Enjoying both summers
We have two summers in Ireland.
The first one used to be at the start of June – it was known as the Leaving Cert heatwave, as that is just when school exams are in progress. I have noticed that in recent years this has shifted a bit and now tends to fall in May. Regular as clockwork. Every year. I used to plan my annual leave accordingly and was rarely disappointed.
The May/June heatwave always gave promise of a long hot summer but those of us of elder years know better. The heatwave ends and we are in for three months of real Irish weather which consists generally of rain or cloudy days and temperatures that occasionally mean firing up the central hating.
The second summer happens in the first week or two of September – this is known as the Back to School Heatwave which is self explanatory.. God seems to have it in for school kids?
We are currently enjoying the latter but it is due to end in the next day or two. Temperatures have been high by Irish standards, in the high twenties and non-stop sunshine [except at night]. I know people will say that’s not particularly high by international standards but both summers tend to be quite humid. A high twenty in Ireland is a good deal less comfortable than a high thirty in France. I speak from experience.
what amuses me is the reaction of the meeja and the weather forecasters. Ever year they react with amazement and act as if it is their benevolence that is treating us to a good spell. We have headlines promising us that records possibly will be broken and to pile on the sunscreen lotion. We have had a Yellow Alert for the last week to tell us how scared we should be.
I’ll be sorry when the temperatures drop and the wind rises as then I’ll have to close the doors to the garden. I love having the doors open.
I don’t have to keep letting Penny in or out.
It was in these Summers that I appreciated the traditional Irish farm half-door a few decades ago.
And it was not just for keeping the chooks out.
A fire had to be kept going because that is how food got cooked and water made hot.
So a seat by the door was a boon.
Also when a downpour happened on a sticky, close, day, it was a joy to see the rain stotting off the cobbles.
Indeed things haven’t changed that much over the decades. I do remember long hot summer days and I also remember staring out at the pissing rain.
“Stotting”! A lovely word that hasn’t crossed my path before. I must add it to my rapidly diminishing lexicon.
It’s all that climate change stuff according to the biased news, but they may have got it wrong.
Last year a maximum temperature of 40C was reported in the UK. This year the maximum is 33. By my reckoning that’s a reduction of almost 20% in only one year, I’m now crapping myself about global cooling, at that rate we’ll be in another ice-age in a decade or so.
But then all those earlier ice-ages came and went as the planet’s climate changed without any interference from internal combustion engines or fossil-fuel power-stations, so I’ll just stock up on woolly jumpers and heating oil and I’ll survive. Ramp up the CO2 output, we’re going to need it.
For the last while every news seemed to mention [in funereal tones] that such and such a record may possibly be broken. It was surprising that some of the previous records dated back to the 60s or 70s?