Sometimes, it's even about plants and gardening...

Friday, 6 July 2012

Filthy Weather

A couple of days ago one of my friends in the South posted on Facebook that there were due to be some fine and sunny days in her part of the world and friends should bear this in mind and organise their washing days accordingly.  As you can tell already, some of my friends lead lives even more thrilling than my own.

I was deeply envious, but also inspired to humour and replied to the effect that "Up here, 'Fifty Shades of Grey' isn't a dirty book, it's the weather forecast."  That's probably my second funniest line regarding that notorious book.  It got a 'LOL' from my friend.  Probably not quite sufficient praise to quit horticulture and try stand-up comedy instead, but who knows.  I am going to need a Plan C at this rate (see previous posts re Plan B).

Today has just seen continuous heavy rain and there is flooding all around the local area.  I was woken up by it drumming on the flat roof over the front bay, followed by a clap of thunder, and it's been pouring down almost all day.  Mercifully, we live on top of a hill, but Jon has been trying to work out the logistics of getting two of each species of local fauna safely stowed on the narrowboat.   

So please excuse me while I spend a few moments railing against the injustice of the fickle and heartless weather gods.  It is now a year and a quarter since I left paid employment with the intention of taking something of a sabbatical, studying horticulture and setting up as a gardener.  I envisaged spending last summer taking it pretty easy and having a proper chill out; deck chair on the lawn, glass of wine, good book...  But no, it was not to be.  We had a truly foul summer and the small compensation of some hot weather in October.

This summer the plan looked more like spend lots of time on the narrowboat, also accessorised with glass of wine etc, and occasionally come ashore to keep our garden looking nice and tend to the lawns and flowerbeds of my loyal customers (both of them).  Instead, despite two sowings of the traditional sacrifice to the gods of expensive cultivars of carrot seed, I am blessed with 'the wettest June since records began'. 

That's not the deal, guys!

None of the root veg has survived; if it germinated at all, it has now been taken out by slugs.  Last week I planted out six robust little courgette plants in quite sheltered parts of the garden.  There is not a sign now that they ever even existed.

(I've just been interrupted by a cry of 'Oh! Sunshine!" from Himself, but after the initial excitement it seems he was actually just watching the tennis and there are blue skies over Wimbledon at the moment.)

Oddly, in theory I have a choice of weather forecasts from the BBC site each day.  I can type in 'Stoke-on-Trent' and get a forecast based on West Midlands weather.  Alternatively, if I put in my postcode (a Stoke-on-Trent code) I get an alternative forecast based on North West weather and with subtle variations regarding exactly when the rain will be torrential and when it will merely be drizzling.

In either case, if you look more than a day or two ahead and see some of those funny little symbols with a yellow circle and little rays coming out, rest assured you are looking at a work of fiction.

And my best 'Fifty shades...' joke?  (Tories and bankers look away now!)

- I can't imagine why so many women apparently want to read/fantasize about being screwed by a sadistic rich boy when they already live in a country that's being screwed by sadistic rich boys!  I'm tempted to rejoin the Labour Party to help fight the Coalition, but would that just be masochism?

Okay, I won't give up the gardening just yet.  And no, I haven't read it.