The good old Blighty weather has done it again.
Weekend before last, I enjoyed the Jubilee celebrations. I watched the pageant on the Thames (it rained); visited a National Trust property (it rained again). By the Bank Holiday Monday, all the bunting in the villages looked rather limp (due to the damp and the rain). Yet our collective spirit meant we stayed out and had our street parties dressed in hats with umbrellas and raincoats.
The only time it didn't rain was when I sat watching the concert outside Buckingham Palace on TV. What a fantastic line-up it was. I was cosy on the settee with a glass to toast the event, and then it rained inside as the roof started to leak.
Undeterred, I tried a bit of gardening Bank Holiday Tuesday. In my neck of the woods, we still have a hosepipe ban on. But that didn’t worry me, because it rained.
This week, it’s rained so hard it was like someone was sitting over my house with a hosepipe turned full on. More leaks and a worrying crack have appeared in my garden path. The soil looks like it does in a drought, a criss-cross of lines and cracks, but this time, it’s due to being water-logged.
All my plans for a few days off gardening have come to nothing. I wanted to paint my fence, mow the lawn and do a bit of weeding. So much water, everything is like a tropical rainforest. If the grass grows much longer, I shan’t be able to see my neighbours!
The weather forecast says ‘expect much of the same’ for days. Will my green strawberries ever ripen? Perhaps I should grow rice? After all, everything resembles a paddy field.
We’re told the jet-stream is a bit muddled. It’s sucking air from the north, not the south. This certainly isn’t flaming June (well, I'm using the word ‘flaming’ in a different sense most of the time now...)
Global warming is a misnomer. I don’t know about you, but it makes me think the UK will get so hot we will grow grapes and produce vats of wine. The reality is, the opposite can also happen; global drenching. This weather is certainly unusual. To those poor souls who have had two months rain dumped on them in one day, my heart goes out to you, as well as all the council staff who are trying to keep roads open and tackle emergency planning.
Why is it every time the weather does the unpredictable (to the point it’s becoming predictable) we seem in awe of it and never ready to cope? Mother Nature in the end is more powerful than we will ever be. That’s the lesson I guess.
A stroke of luck I bought a house on the top of a hill. Unless it’s snowing of course ...