I’ve seen a fair few summers in me time and I have to say, I can’t remember one as good as this. I know there’s hosepipe bans and whatnot and some of the auld horses are struggling in the heat but I refuse to complain about it. What’s seldom is wonderful as the fella says.

Speaking of which, I’ve not seen much of Davy lately and that is quite wonderful. And you’d think that the chances of running into him in the biggest bloody park in the city would be fairly remote, yet who should I bump in to only himself when I decided to take a ramble through there earlier this week.

“Is your phone broken or something,” he roars at me as soon as he sees me.
“Hello to you too,” I says.

“I was ringing ye all weekend. Dying to get out for a jar, I was,” he says to me with a wounded puppy expression on his face.

“Davy, as much as I’m fond of a pint from time to time, I don’t like spending all me time in the boozer,” I says with an air of exacerbation in me voice.
“Especially when the weather is like this. Sure ye’d be wasting the whole day.”

“We coulda sat in the beer garden,” he says to me, looking all hurt.

“Davy, Janey Macs doesn’t have a beer garden,” I says. “Two stools in a yard isn’t a bleedin’ beer garden. It’s not even a beer patio.”

“We could have gone somewhere else,” he says. “Or gone out in the evening so ye could have enjoyed the weather too.”

Davy knows I don’t like going out in the evening when the pubs are packed and if I do go for a jar, I like to go to the local, even if it’s just so I can wind Paschal up a bit.
But I figured there was no point in arguing the point.

“Sure look, I’m here now,” I says to him. “And it’s a lovely day. Let’s perambulate together.”

“Wha’!” he shrieks. “Ah here Gaz, I know we’re mates and all but I’m not into that sort of thing like.”

“I said perambulate, ye eejit,” I bark at him. “It means walking. Get your mind outta the gutter and read a book from time to time for God sake.”

“Ah right, yeah,” he says. “I thought ye meant..”

“I know what ye thought,” I snap back at him. “Now we’ll say no more about it. Look there’s Michael D’s gaff there now.”

“Will it be his gaff for much longer, do ye think?” he asks me.

“Ah yeah,” I says. “Sure everyone loves him. He’ll get in no bother. Unopposed I reckon.”

“Nah, yer man Gallagher is going up against him,” says Davy.

“Gallagher?” I says. “Where has he been hiding the past seven years?”

“I dunno,” says Davy. “These people just seem to pop up out of nowhere to get a bit of attention at election time.”

“Jaysus does that mean we’ll have to endure Dana again?” I says.

“We might well do,” the hangdog expression is back on his face again at the mere thought of it.

“That’s the drawback to democracy,” I says. “It allows for All Kinds of Everything.”