At last the summer has arrived. Outside the window, through the jungle of plants that has become the table of late, I see a clear blue sky. (Well, through the window, plants and covering of cloud, I am sure there is a clear blue sky. Let's go with that...)

...I see a clear blue sky. The cats are basking in the sunlight that streams through the window (cloud and plants) Children play in the street outside, relishing those long Summer days where school is but a distant memory (we need to imagine said children also as they are all no doubt in their bedrooms glued to Fifa two thousand and whatever on the Playstation, really believing they are spending their summer playing football)

..and the sound of leather on willow fills the room.

The absence of children is something I noticed the other day. Is it that we spent most of our Summers inside as children and we just have a rose tinted memory of the past? I remember playing tennis in the street, all the kids out together, the familiar shout of 'CAR!' when someone came along. There was football in the garden, smashing Trevor Newnham's garage door window. Taking our bikes out, riding around the streets, over to the lake, down the alley playing run-outs. Having flea-dart fights, picking blackberries, coming home when the street lights came on, or someone's mum shouted out for dinner. Grabbing our swimming kits and getting the bus to Harrow Lodge, filling up on sweets from the shop opposite with the change. What do kids do now? Was it really like that? There is a golden haze to all my memories, it was always sunny and we always seem to be in slow motion, like something from 'The Wonder Years'.

I want to believe that it was really like that, in truth, we were probably bored senseless and spent the entire break bickering whilst we watched the rain pour against the window.

As I type, the hundred comes up for England. Without loss. Against Australia. I hate it when England give us such hope. Reality will no doubt kick back in shortly.

...and so it does, 112-1 as Strauss goes for 48. *sigh