Thursday, June 28, 2018
Whenever County Antrim folk (and other North Irish people) are blessed with a prolonged spell of hot weather we may well experience the following:
The Common Herd
Disbelief. This can't be happening to us! Why it's hotter than Spain.
Elation. I'll bet all those folk flying off to Spain will wish they'd stayed at home.
Pessimism. It can't last. This will probably be all the summer we'll get.
Despair. It's far too hot! It's too warm to work. I'm not worth tuppence in this heat.
Hope. Good to see a blink of sun and the cattle are out in the fields again. Maybe we'll get a bit of grass this year.
Making Hay. Every farmer in the country. Last year was so wet that hay was worth its weight in gold.
Pessimism. This year hay will probably fetch about three quid a bale.
Despair. We need rain! The grass has stopped growing.
Delight. Boys-a-dear. Isn't this great? I thought we were never going to see a decent summer again. Fantastic gardening weather.
Irritation. Every other bugger in the country is lying sunning themselves in their back garden and we're watering from morning to night.
Pessimism. The state of those roses. They're wilting in this weather. And the irises hardly lasted a week in the heat. And those bloody weeds! Nothing stops them!
Looking On The Bright Side. At least the slugs and snails are giving it a rest.
Fetch ball! Sleep! Drink water! Go to the river! Fetch stick! Swim! Eat! Sleep!