Hello there. Hope you’re feeling well today.When Wales is on the television in the United Kingdom there is usually a clichÃ© Welsh weather. The sky’s grey, there’s a mild drizzle of rain in the air and often a moody detective is walking through the depressed mist as he (as it normally is – remember we’re talking clichÃ© here) is trying to solve a murder in a community where sunlight is seen as often as an eclipse.
Well today, a Monday in June, things could not be less Welsh clichÃ© unless a group of Walian rugby fans suddenly started to sing “Swing low, Sweet Chariot”.
For it is hot. Weather forecasts suggests very hot. 23 degrees where I live. Now I know that should you be reading this say in Spain you’d be laughing your head off and putting thermal underwear on if it reached that level as it would just be arctic like for you. But here in Wales that’s hot. Indeed it’s forecast to get even hotter than that.
Not only is it hot. It’s also bright. The Welsh always struck me as optimistic when it comes to the weather but this time wearing sunglasses, shorts and (if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s a Monday….and there’s the World Cup) holding a barbecue does not seem inappropriate. I’ve walked passed people sunbathing without a care in the world. Indeed the description of Wales being “Italy with rain” holds true in this weather because it’s acting Mediterranean they’re in fact becoming Italians
The thing is this though. In this sort of weather there will always be those who will stick out like a sore thumb. So for today two sore thumbs pointed at this guy.
I am writing this inside with a window open and no intention to go out until I pick my daughter from school. The only connession fashion wise I’ve made to the weather is a short sleeved shirt where when I’m out the ladies can marvel at my blotchy arms (this is what the hot sun does to me folks). As for shorts…well you can forget about that…not sure the last time my legs have been exposed to sunshine but it’s not starting now.
Apparently this “tropical” weather is going to last for the rest of the week. And I cannot wait. (hope you caught the sarcasm). Sweltering is the new me. Or rather perhaps hiding.
At least for the moment I can use the World Cup as an excuse for not going out. But as the games reduces it won’t last long.
Roll on tomorrow. And work. And air conditioning.
Until the next time.