This is how we know it is a Bank Holiday. Morning goes like this - wake up stupidly early to the sound of chickens. It's like the dawn chorus only slightly less musical and with more 'waaaahhhhWAHWAHwahhh' (which is the sound chickens make when they are shut in their run in the pouring rain and want to go out into the garden, presumably in the belief that it's not as wet if you're not surrounded by wire).
|The hen known as 'Big Ginge' in happier times, ie, when the sun was shining|
Wake again later, to sounds of chickens mugging one another. It is still raining. Damp bunting flops against the window like washing that's been on the line for six months and has welded to the pegs and you realise that this is Jubilee Weekend. That four day weekend that everyone has been looking forward to since the Coronation. And it's raining.
Let's just run through it again, shall we? For those readers who live in places where the weather follows fairly normal lines, who, therefore, might not be able to get to grips with this. It is June. It is so cold that I had the electric blanket on last night, went out in a long-sleeved top and a fleece and was still cold. It is raining so hard that the chickens look like soggy mop-heads and are hiding under the hedge. We should be sitting out in the garden with a Pimms or seven, deckchairs and suncream. Instead, we are sitting indoors with hot tea, blankets and Vick's Vapor Rub, resigning ourselves to moist Jubilee Celebrations and the red white and blue of home-painted flags are running into one another until it looks as though our national flag is a big blob of purple on a wrinkled background.
Actually, that's not a bad idea. Let's do away with the Union flag, on account of the fact that every time it's going to be flown (national celebration, Queen visiting, etc) it will be raining, and go for the more all-purpose 'Big Purple Wrinklie'.
|It probably won't look as good as this when it's flopping from a flagpole, though.|
Happy Diamond Jubilee, everyone!
Now, where are my waterproof pants?