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Slate-gray skies, pounding drizzle - you'd be forgiven for thinking this was an image taken just outside the dark satanic mills of northern England. But no, this is the sweaty south, blooming with Azaleas and Dogwoods; Augusta, one week before the Masters.
As every good Englishman abroad is duty bound to do, I feel I should complain about the weather: rain, punctuated only by great lumps of thunder and flashy lightning has been the mainstay for the last half-week or so. Not that I'm adverse to rain, you understand; quite used to it in fact. I've got a crew flying over here in two weeks for the wedding, so I'm praying that things improve - we're matching Birmingham today with a balmy 11°C (52°F), so they might not notice the difference. Not that I'm adverse to the cold, you understand; quite used to it in fact. Come on Augusta - Wikipedia describes you as having 'a humid subtropical climate'. What is this, the monsoon season?
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