I am British. And being British, there are some things that I (stereotypically) like. Like tea. We all have our quirks as a country. One of ours is that we like our tea so much that we are the only country to have to get power from another country - in our case France - at the end and in the breaks of popular television shows, to cope with everyone putting the kettle on. Even that phrase is soothing - putting the kettle on. I also like Morris dancing, and queues. Well, I don't like standing in queues, but I like people to be in a queue if the occasion warrants it. It's more orderly. I also like moaning about the weather.
The weather in Britain is more than a purely physical thing. Here, it has an entity. A personality. We talk and moan about it as if we had gone to school with it, and it had been both our best friend, and our worse enemy. If it is sunny, we moan about the heat and then switch straight to "but isn't it lovely that we have a nice clear day, so rare." to "I hope this doesn't carry on. I can't cope with a drought."
British weather is a changeable as it comes. Look out of the window and it is hoying it down, to borrow a phrase from a friend. So you get all ready to go out in the rain and by the time you get to the door, it is as if the rain had never happened.
If there is nothing else to moan about, people will moan about the weather. But are we really able to cope with it? It is defiantly a regional thing. For example, back home, on the south coast, snow is mostly unheard of. The sea warmth, wet, and I guess, saltiness make sure that doesn't happen. One of my most enduring memories of college is battling my way through the snow on a bike, to get to college, cold wet and shivering to be informed that most of the teachers couldn't get in so college was canceled. The snow melts, we go in after the weekend to be quite calmly informed by our northern Spanish teacher, and Scottish physics teacher that they were disgusted because at home that wouldn't even have been seen as a proper snowfall, let alone cancel the college day and cause all the havoc that it did for us.
And then there are the water companies. Despite having more than sufficient water falling from the sky in it's various forms even during a dry winter we are hit, almost unfailingly every summer with a hosepipe ban. Is this because our scorching hot weather dries out to reservoirs? Usually, no. There are nice big reservoirs with lots of water in them, nicely landscaped, boats and fish and yadda yadda yadda. And they let it escape. If not out of the reservoir itself, then through the maze of leaky pipes and poor fitting that they are constantly repairing. I forget the amount of water lost in greater London alone, but the figure is staggeringly high. It strikes me as shutting the stable door after the horse has escaped.
So we moan. We moan when it is fine because we turn pink and peal, and our infrastructure can't deal with it. We moan when it isn't fine, well, because it isn't fine. and that is a freak of natural situation. we are stuck halfway between the hot and the cold. And we are an island. Islands usually equal wet. unless you are like Australia, in which case you are wet around the edges because you are so blooming massive.
I like moaning. It is a common factor most people you speak to will have in common. And since I am usually a fairly sunny person, well, at least I like to think so, a little moaning will usually be taken in good regard. Because I am just as likely to be disgustingly cheerful about it. Which I have been told, doesn't bear thinking about in a Monday morning.
The weather in Britain is more than a purely physical thing. Here, it has an entity. A personality. We talk and moan about it as if we had gone to school with it, and it had been both our best friend, and our worse enemy. If it is sunny, we moan about the heat and then switch straight to "but isn't it lovely that we have a nice clear day, so rare." to "I hope this doesn't carry on. I can't cope with a drought."
British weather is a changeable as it comes. Look out of the window and it is hoying it down, to borrow a phrase from a friend. So you get all ready to go out in the rain and by the time you get to the door, it is as if the rain had never happened.
If there is nothing else to moan about, people will moan about the weather. But are we really able to cope with it? It is defiantly a regional thing. For example, back home, on the south coast, snow is mostly unheard of. The sea warmth, wet, and I guess, saltiness make sure that doesn't happen. One of my most enduring memories of college is battling my way through the snow on a bike, to get to college, cold wet and shivering to be informed that most of the teachers couldn't get in so college was canceled. The snow melts, we go in after the weekend to be quite calmly informed by our northern Spanish teacher, and Scottish physics teacher that they were disgusted because at home that wouldn't even have been seen as a proper snowfall, let alone cancel the college day and cause all the havoc that it did for us.
And then there are the water companies. Despite having more than sufficient water falling from the sky in it's various forms even during a dry winter we are hit, almost unfailingly every summer with a hosepipe ban. Is this because our scorching hot weather dries out to reservoirs? Usually, no. There are nice big reservoirs with lots of water in them, nicely landscaped, boats and fish and yadda yadda yadda. And they let it escape. If not out of the reservoir itself, then through the maze of leaky pipes and poor fitting that they are constantly repairing. I forget the amount of water lost in greater London alone, but the figure is staggeringly high. It strikes me as shutting the stable door after the horse has escaped.
So we moan. We moan when it is fine because we turn pink and peal, and our infrastructure can't deal with it. We moan when it isn't fine, well, because it isn't fine. and that is a freak of natural situation. we are stuck halfway between the hot and the cold. And we are an island. Islands usually equal wet. unless you are like Australia, in which case you are wet around the edges because you are so blooming massive.
I like moaning. It is a common factor most people you speak to will have in common. And since I am usually a fairly sunny person, well, at least I like to think so, a little moaning will usually be taken in good regard. Because I am just as likely to be disgustingly cheerful about it. Which I have been told, doesn't bear thinking about in a Monday morning.
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