I AM normally of a sunny disposition but at the risk of turning into a grumpy old woman, I'm pissed off with it pissing down. Is it ever going to stop raining here in Britain?
I know our sceptred isle has the reputation of being a little damp at the best of times - it's what keeps us green and pleasant - but this is beyond a joke. It's been tipping it down every day. During the brief moments that the sun shines we rush outside shouting to the children: "Don't look! You'll go blind!"
I must mention last Saturday, however, when the Weather Gods smiled on my little bit of England and a huge family barbecue with a whole pig (I'm not joking; I do come from a rather large family) stayed dry. It was a brilliant day, thanks to Cooking Nephew who worked his customary magic on the pork and Host Sister who is always remarkably laid back about hordes of people invading her house and garden.
The dearly beloved performed his usual task and supplied lots of beer. Lots and lots of beer. Lots. He has a horror of being at a party and the beer running out. He recognises that normal people take a bottle of wine to friends not three barrels of bitter - all right, I'm exaggerating. Two barrels - so he doesn't take it all indoors in one go. He keeps some back in the car so if it we're down to the last few hundred cans, he can magically produce some more.
Back to the weather. I thought we were supposed to be globally warmed by now, not globally soaked to the skin. According to all the predictions, I should be plucking grapes from my garden not harvesting rice.
Maybe that's what global warming has done. Flipped the seasons. Perhaps we'll be throwing another prawn on the barbie and drinking a tinny on Christmas day while our antipodean friends are keeping warm around a hot turkey and falling out over the last cracker.
By August it will be snowing and all you who have booked a seaside holiday will find yourself on a skiing trip. That's fine because come February there'll be pictures in the tabloids of people squashed like sardines on Blackpool beach.
One good thing that the rain has done is stopped all you gardeners on a beautiful sunny day saying annoyingly: "It's all very well but my zinnias could do with a good soaking."
However, gardeners take note. Get your Webb's Wonders in by the end of September and prick out those seedlings by Michaelmas. It'll still be raining, of course, because you will be getting your April showers in October.
So if you want to be ahead of the game, plan your life around spring starting in September, summer in December, autumn in March and winter in June. (People who live in other parts of the world, adjust accordingly.)
Don't forget. You read it here first.