Finally, it's here; summer time, in all its fluffy-cloud-dotted-sky, SPF-999, BBQ-friendly, short-shorts and halter-top wearing glory! So why, on day-2 of the season, am I sitting inside wearing a flannel shirt? And why, at eight o’clock in the morning, do I need to have the lights on?
Summer, in the UK, is not all it is cracked up to be.
Last night, to celebrate the equinox and the first day of summer, my wife and I decided not to take our usual postprandial stroll around town and instead huddled on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, to listen to the rain lash against the windows like machinegun fire. It might have been a bit depressing if I hadn’t looked up the weather forecast for my old home town.
Back in the States, they are enjoying brilliant summer weather—a little too much of it, perhaps. It’s been over 100 degrees there for the past several days, and today (I just had a peek at weather.com) is not going to be much better.
I have to admit that I haven’t experienced ambient temperatures of over 100 degrees since August 2001 and, while they do bring with them a sort of “I was there and I survived” satisfaction (not unlike the stretches of -22 F I used to suffer through) I can’t say I have missed them much. When it’s cold and wet you put on an extra layer and wear your waterproof when you nip out to pick up a six-pack at the offie. When it’s 100 degrees plus, you really can’t do much about it except loiter in the frozen food isle at the Shop ‘n Save.
So, despite the temporarily (one hopes) disappointing climate, I’m not ready to swap places. But to raise the spirits of both the damp and shivering Brits and their sweltering Yankee counterparts, I leave you with one of my favorite summer time songs:
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go put on my cardigan.