At last the sun is here and the weather has warmed up. Not only that, the met office promises us unbridled sun and heat for three months! Trouble is , I seem to recall they promised us the same for the past two years and look at all the rain we had.
It is funny how we Brits are so fascinated by the weather. We talk of gloomy winters, wet springs and hot Summers only to find that we can see all four seasons in one week. We complain that it is too hot, too cold, too windy or that the frost kills off the plants in our beloved garden ( another popular past-time that we love to talk about. Get three or four Brits in a room and you can guarantee the subject of the weather and its effect on the garden will rear its head).
I don't suppose we should complain though (although of course we will) that we currently have high temperatures and long, lazy days of sunshine. After all, it allowed me to get out and mow the lawns, spread the lawn fertilizer and water the lovely plants I purchased this morning from a plant sale at the school my wife teaches at - hopefully a well spent 35 pounds even though the tub I bought decided to fall over in my car and spread dry compost everywhere. I had to re-pot the pot but somehow the finished article does not look like the original!
The hanging basket is no proudly displayed outside the front door of the house, duly watered while the tub and the bedding plants are, after also being duly watered, sat in the shade so the sun does not burn the leaves.
Don't ask me what plants they are as I have no clue concerning the flora of our great land. My wife, being the daughter of a great gardener will no doubt enlighten me once she has had a look at the selection I bought.
Of course, the other great thing we do at the first sign of sunshine is baste ourselves all over in creams, oils and lotions and try to get our lilly-white skin looking healthy, brown and glowing. Usually we end up lobster-like after too much exposure to the burning orb in the sky or capitulate and head for the tanning salon to compete with Tango Man to see who can get the best shade of marmalade. I have never understood the people that frequent these salons; don't they realise how fake it actually looks and that orange does nothing for the complexion? It is incredible that young girls, in particular, go through this ritual only to look worse than if they nurtured their natural skin colour.
Oh well, I guess there is 'nowt so queer as folk' as the saying goes.
Anyway I'm off outside to soak up and few rays and hope the sun is set on 'mild lobster' otherwise I for see a few uncomfortable days ahead.
Oh, I think you should complain - it has been brought home to me just how dire British summers are. The fact that we still talk about 1976 in glowing terms sums up how few and far between a 'proper' summer is in the UK. It's the lack of distinct seasons and the paucity of clear blue sky that gets me. Trouble is, you only really notice it once you have lived somewhere else for any length of time. I guess the mild British winters are a saving grace as you don't get the brutal cold of continental Europe or north America, but the dark mornings, incessant damp and constant overcast days that make one feel as if they are living inside tupperware isn't much of a trade-off really...
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