A L Kennedy’s piece on Radio 4’s Broadcasting House about the weather’s identity crisis this summer made me laugh out loud, much to the dogs consternation! As I struggled into my damp waterproofs to take them out in the rain for their second empty of the morning I had to agree with her that April was not the cruellest month it was indeed August and that the sky in England had mostly been as grey as a sharks armpit.  Bring on Autumn she demanded, bring on the conkers!

I thought about her words again later whilst trying to light the fire, the cottage felt cold and damp on our return from the woods. It took so long for the kindling to catch and I was concentrating so hard on getting the fire going that I didn’t notice the sunlight flooding through the living room windows or the perspiration running down my face, by which time there seemed little point in having a blaze in the hearth and we were all in danger of heat stroke!

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