It's official. This April has been the hottest in the UK for nearly 350 years. Apparently there have been weather records kept in the Central England area since 16 something, and this April is about 5 degrees hotter than any yet recorded. Also, if you take the last twelve months rolling temperatures then it has been about 3 degrees hotter.
The new Old Market Square has been open in Nottingham for the last few weeks and I was there this morning on my way to have my hair cut. The tram dropped me off fifteen minutes early, the sun was shining and I had a fag left in my handbag from last night, purloined last minute off Perks. So I crossed the granite, all splintery sunlight, and sat by a flowerbed and watched the kids playing in the fountain. Only a couple of them at that time, but running through the arches of water and getting thoroughly soaked! The fountain has been designed for children to play in, it's like a huge paddling pool, and the kids don't need asking twice, they are straight in there, running through, underneath, jumping the jets, splashing each other, it's wonderful. Doesn't matter how old they are, they lose all "street" when they get in, and just get wet instead, faces stretched wide and laughs flying high.
There were vintage cars, buses and tractors in the square advertising an event due at Wollaton hall next weekend, and a hurdy gurdy organ, just the perfect sound track. So I sat and smoked, and just looked. Brilliant.
Then walked to have my hair done. They have finished the street repairs on Castle Gate, it's looking good. I stopped and looked in the window of the wine merchants - nice bottle of Margaux in a gift box. Thought I might buy it for Hub, but depends how much the trim costs. Don't have to wait long when I get in, I swear too that the gowns they make you wear have got bigger. I never know quite whether to put it on like a coat to fasten at the front, or like a hospital gown to fasten at the back, so always stand like some imbecile waiting to be dressed! Finally get velcroed and tied in, and sit down in front of the mirror. Instantly you can see every single grey hair sprouting from the top of my head and I look as though I haven't bothered with make up. What is is about the lights in here? Last time, when having my hair washed, I seemed to be positioned right underneath one of the halogen things, and had an aura round everything I looked at for the next ten minutes.
I get shampooed from the Laminates range. Apparently this will help keep my hair sleek. Ho hum, first time for everything I guess. The lass who washes this time is a perky little thing, about 12, and full of chatter about the sun and what I did last night, and what I'm doing tonight. Then she hands me over the Ruth. I am Ruth's Client, Perky is Ruth's Washer, and there is always the Audience, who stand and watch whatever she does when she cuts and blowdries, waiting for the skill to be absorbed into their own repertoir. Within the salon, there are always those with Client, Washer and Audience.
Ruth is incredibly slim, trendy, blonde and friendly. Thank God for the last, or I wouldn't be able to bring myself to expose my grey. This time we don't go for straightened, as I can't maintain it like that anyway, and I want to see what she can do with the curls rather than trying to beat them into submission.
Problem is, it doesn't take as long, so I feel slightly less pampered than usual when I leave, so buy myself the Laminates shampoo and conditioner to make up for it. (This comes to £26 on its own without the cost of the cut - bloody hell, what am I doing???) This means I can't afford the Margaux for Hub.
Still, by the time I get back to the market square to catch the tram, the sun is still shining, there are more people than ever just enjoying themselves, and even more kids in the fountain. They have trousers rolled up, shoes and socks off and some of them are just plain soaking, but what fun.
By this time a dance troupe of some sort have set up on a raised platform and are jiving to rock and roll which clashes gloriously with the Can Can being played on the hurdy-gurdy.
Back on the tram and home via the supermarket. Tell you what, when Hub sees the Bhaji and Samosa combination I get him off the deli counter, I won't feel bad about the Margaux anymore!
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