In all seriousness, though, this weather (which some might, quite rightfully, term 'shoddy' - especially for June) is completely failing in its quest to get me down. It seems, rather, to serve only to buoy up my mood. I suppose this might be odd. Actually, I don't suppose - it is odd. I mean, it's June, for goodness' sake - even in the UK it doesn't get this bad at this time of year.
So what do I have as an explanation for an incongruously sunny disposition? To put it simply - my body. It's not just that my physical state is making the rain and wind pale into insignificance, however, or even that the cold doesn't send me into spasm. Both of these, of course, are absolutely amazing and I am engulfed in gratitude (no, 'enveloped' is better, because it emulates the warm hug-like feeling I'm carrying around these days); but it's more that I see just as many possibilities in grey skies now as I always have in blue.
Before I get shot for using a terribly clichéd metaphor (Warwick New Writing, I'm looking at you, and that court martial you have a pen poised and ready to sign!) I must stress that I mean this literally. My wheelchair contains around £10,000 worth of electronics. (Thank you, NHS, and I shall do everything in my - comparatively small - power to ensure that you aren't prevented from providing a similar service to others in the future; I am forever in your debt.) When a machine such as this provides you with your sole method of transport, you kind of baulk at the idea of getting it too wet. Recently, though, I've allowed myself to contemplate the day upon which this might not be such an issue.
I've always wanted to spend some time in a torrential downpour. Call me sentimental, but it's the simple things in life, and I'm sincerely looking forward, not just to singing, but dancing in the rain. I hope you'll all come with me, even just the once...
...we need to celebrate the spirit of life and generosity - all the money we're raising! £411.13 in just four days! So much love and thanks and silliness for you all!