So apparently Jeremy Clarkson has been let loose on the headlines about the British weather for the weekend. Apparently we are set to have the hottest weekend... ... ... ... in the world! Well something like that anyway.
We Brits have a strange relationship with the weather. It's strange enough that I'm sitting here, in my free time, writing about it. There's nothing some Brits love more than a good old moan about the weather. Most of the time, the moaning is directed towards how crap it is: too rainy, too cold, too windy, too present generally.
Not so this weekend. Over Saturday and Sunday we are set to have a couple of the hottest days this year and since there seems to be a trend for things being the biggest, hottest, coldest, wettest since records began this weekend could be the hottest weekend... EVER! Brilliant. Across the nation, millions of Brits will charge out of their houses across the land bedecked in garishly coloured outfits and make their way quickly... to the nearest shade... and then spend the day complaining loudly about it being too bloody hot! They will sit there, fanning themselves with newspapers and sighing loudly and pointedly.
Of course there is another breed of Brits. Ones that are the polar opposite of the ones just described. This strain of Brits will remove as much clothing as physically possible without being arrested for public indecency then lie motionless in the sunniest spot possible to achieve the ultimate goal... getting a tan. Except by getting a tan they will invariably end up sweating like a grand national winner and resembling a poached lobster covered in some nice garlic butter. Now don't get me wrong, some of them look rather good while working on their poached lobster impression. The public indecency occurs by not removing the last few scraps of clothing. Most however don't fit into this category which does somewhat take the edge off.
Naturally, being British, sunny weather must (by law) be paired with copious amounts of cold alcoholic beverages. White wine and lager should hit the spot rather nicely. Or Pimms if you're feeling sophisticated. Then again, cold weather is also a precursor to drinkies; some warmed, others warming but let's gloss over that. Consumption of beer, wine, pimms, etc will of course easily replace the fluid sweated off complaining about the head/grilling and leave you feeling refreshed, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and raring to go. Oh wait... maybe not. No. It will leave you dehydrated, grouchy, just as sweaty and ready to go to bed despite it only being six o' clock.
But no. It's hot. The law states that when it's hot, barbecues MUST be had. Look it up if you don't believe me. I think it's in the Hot Weather Act 1982. For some reason hot weather equates to al fresco cooking of meat. Of course the meat will either be grossly underdone or hideously over done, sometimes simultaneously, and the flavour of the delicately constructed marinades you made earlier (when it was cold) will be neatly masked by the charcoal coating the food. And of course it being a barbecue it must be coupled with copious amounts of more beer (which of course you will drink more quickly because you're feeling dehydrated from the previous beer... do keep up) leaving you feeling even more sleepy and grouchy then eventually a bit cold and miserable because it's about 11 at night and you forgot to bring long-trousers and a jumper.
So what will I be doing this weekend? I will be walking dogs both in the sun and shade... probably in shorts and flipflops. I will be admiring the beautiful countryside and enjoying soaking up some rays (whist no doubt pondering if it's a little on the warm side... strictly for the dogs' sake you understand). I will probably then head to the pub for a pint and some lunch. I don't have access to a garden so the barbecue might have to wait unless friends invite me to one or the pub up the road has one in which case I will consume my bodyweight in meat and beer. And I will be enjoying every second of it. Well why not?
If you're around this weekend, enjoy it. Especially as you don't know when the next one will be!
JR
We Brits have a strange relationship with the weather. It's strange enough that I'm sitting here, in my free time, writing about it. There's nothing some Brits love more than a good old moan about the weather. Most of the time, the moaning is directed towards how crap it is: too rainy, too cold, too windy, too present generally.
Not so this weekend. Over Saturday and Sunday we are set to have a couple of the hottest days this year and since there seems to be a trend for things being the biggest, hottest, coldest, wettest since records began this weekend could be the hottest weekend... EVER! Brilliant. Across the nation, millions of Brits will charge out of their houses across the land bedecked in garishly coloured outfits and make their way quickly... to the nearest shade... and then spend the day complaining loudly about it being too bloody hot! They will sit there, fanning themselves with newspapers and sighing loudly and pointedly.
Of course there is another breed of Brits. Ones that are the polar opposite of the ones just described. This strain of Brits will remove as much clothing as physically possible without being arrested for public indecency then lie motionless in the sunniest spot possible to achieve the ultimate goal... getting a tan. Except by getting a tan they will invariably end up sweating like a grand national winner and resembling a poached lobster covered in some nice garlic butter. Now don't get me wrong, some of them look rather good while working on their poached lobster impression. The public indecency occurs by not removing the last few scraps of clothing. Most however don't fit into this category which does somewhat take the edge off.
Naturally, being British, sunny weather must (by law) be paired with copious amounts of cold alcoholic beverages. White wine and lager should hit the spot rather nicely. Or Pimms if you're feeling sophisticated. Then again, cold weather is also a precursor to drinkies; some warmed, others warming but let's gloss over that. Consumption of beer, wine, pimms, etc will of course easily replace the fluid sweated off complaining about the head/grilling and leave you feeling refreshed, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and raring to go. Oh wait... maybe not. No. It will leave you dehydrated, grouchy, just as sweaty and ready to go to bed despite it only being six o' clock.
But no. It's hot. The law states that when it's hot, barbecues MUST be had. Look it up if you don't believe me. I think it's in the Hot Weather Act 1982. For some reason hot weather equates to al fresco cooking of meat. Of course the meat will either be grossly underdone or hideously over done, sometimes simultaneously, and the flavour of the delicately constructed marinades you made earlier (when it was cold) will be neatly masked by the charcoal coating the food. And of course it being a barbecue it must be coupled with copious amounts of more beer (which of course you will drink more quickly because you're feeling dehydrated from the previous beer... do keep up) leaving you feeling even more sleepy and grouchy then eventually a bit cold and miserable because it's about 11 at night and you forgot to bring long-trousers and a jumper.
So what will I be doing this weekend? I will be walking dogs both in the sun and shade... probably in shorts and flipflops. I will be admiring the beautiful countryside and enjoying soaking up some rays (whist no doubt pondering if it's a little on the warm side... strictly for the dogs' sake you understand). I will probably then head to the pub for a pint and some lunch. I don't have access to a garden so the barbecue might have to wait unless friends invite me to one or the pub up the road has one in which case I will consume my bodyweight in meat and beer. And I will be enjoying every second of it. Well why not?
If you're around this weekend, enjoy it. Especially as you don't know when the next one will be!
JR
No comments:
Post a Comment