It is indeed scorchio in Leeds and has been for some days. Even more astonishingly it looks likely to be so for a few more. Top floor living has come into its own as my apartment is remarkably cool; some sort of recompense for the months being buffeted by blizzards and the tail end of hurricanes. There is one thing that strikes me as being odd though. Why do the young women of Leeds wear more clothes when the temperature approaches 30 Celsius in summer than they do when it is below freezing on a Saturday night in December? I could ask my teenage daughters, but suspect that I would not so much get an answer as abuse. Anyway returning to the unseasonable weather, I seem to have accidentally blagged myself a ticket to the cricket this evening; which is nice.
In preparation for more Western Desert activity tomorrow I have been reading about Operation Crusader. The main criteria for choosing a book were that it had to be on Kindle and that it had to be cheap, so naturally my reading is probably not automatically at the correct level for gaining an insight to a division vs division tactical battle of attrition. The author's view seems to be that the British are doomed, and that it's all Liddell Hart's fault. I knew that it wasn't mine.
No comments:
Post a Comment