Pimms, Scourge of the Innocent

Temperature: 64 degrees, looking like rain
Boxes packed = 0
Attempts to inject insulin into squirming cat = 2
Number of times student loan company called before breakfast = 1

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BTW don't think that I haven't noticed that, with just a couple of honourable exceptions, no-one comments on my blog. Why is this? I know that lots of people are reading it, and I can't believe that everyone agrees with every word I say. You do realize that you can use a pseudonym?

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This week, after a few days of hot weather and the arrival of new garden umbrellas, it seemed time to get the Pimms evangelism going again. Pimms, for the uninitiated, has been described by some as alcoholic fruit salad, but that is grossly undervaluing this fabulous concoction. It consists of gin and lots of top secret essences and extracts of god knows what, to which one adds ice, fizzy lemonade or ginger ale, and slices of lemon, mint, cucumber, strawberries, and apple. The beauty of this is that you can make it as strong or as weak as you like, according to taste and stamina. It is deceptive, however, particularly when the sun is strong. You can knock back several glasses as if it were iced tea, and then find that your legs give way when you try to stand up.

NB, this is not a cocktail. Pimms is a drink which should only ever be drunk in daylight hours, between the months of May and September, and god forbid you should ever add a cocktail umbrella or a cherry to proceedings. In fact, even in the bars of the Stewards' Enclosure at the Henley Royal Regatta it is only served by the pintful, in big fat beer mugs (going rate: about $15 a pint last time I looked, but I guess that's the price of doing business at Henley...)

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Anyway, I started off on LandladyLynn. After practicing our syringe wielding technique at the vet yesterday afternoon, she looked like she could use a stiff drink. She said she liked it, but as a sample of one that was definitely not statistically relevant. So later I took all my Pimms paraphenalia with me to BigMouthLloyd and BostonKate's (for what I hope will be the first of many 222blonde-is-leaving-boo-hoo BBQs).

Now, people not born and raised on Pimms are always a little suspicious. While in the UK, it is drunk everywhere during the summer - in pubs or at home, at weddings or informal back garden BBQs, on college lawns in Oxford and Cambridge, or in splendour at Henley, Wimbledon and Ascot - in America it's not an easy drink to label, or be labelled by, either chemically or socially.

For American men, in particular, whose masculinity and self image seems entirely dependent on the tone of voice in which they order a Bud Light, the prospect of sipping a tall glass with strawberries and cucumber floating around in it is absolutely horrific.

And fear is catching. Even the women seem nervous. There is hard liquor (gin - mother's ruin) in the Pimms concentrate - most unladylike. Will it be too strong: will it reduce them to dancing on tables flashing their knickers after a couple of swigs?

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My audience last night was semi impressed. TheSplash - clad in pink and white striped seersucker pants from J Crew which a more insecure heterosexual would surely have balked at - made some convincing sounding appreciative noises, it is true. And the others made polite efforts. But as we were half way down the drive departing for home, BigMouthLloyd came sprinting down the lawn with the perfectly good 2/3rds full Pimms bottle, insisting I take it home with me. This confirmed my worst suspicions. Pimms is a tough sell to the Yanks.