The W word

I have already got a reputation here for being the woman who moans about the weather.

In fact, I've even been banned from using the word.

But Sweet Begeezuz! I knew that Lancaster was a rainy part of the country but I didn't expect it to have so much effect on how I felt. Those first few weeks, I stomped my way through the puddles in my new red boots, mumbling I've made a terrible mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake.....

First thing I did when I got out of bed every morning was check and compare the forecasts for Lancaster and Witney. Why are you torturing yourself like that? asked Jim. You know Lancaster is never going to come out tops. He thought I was doing it to prove to myself that I'd made a terrible mistake. I wasn't. I was doing it to prove to myself that some days Lancaster got equally good or better weather. It did.

Once.

As a result of my weather forecast obsession, I have come to think of my days in BBC weather symbols.



I reckon barely a day goes by without a Double Drops or a Single Drops episode at some point in the 24 hours. But I've noticed that it's often at night, so that's okay. No, it's not the rain that bothers me the most. At least when it's raining, it's making some sort of statement. And the pitter-patter can feel cosy when you're indoors.

No, it's the Dark Cloud days that get to me the most.



What is the point of them exactly? In between the rain, why can't we at least have a Light Cloud day, a nice Farrow & Ball Elephant's Breath or Skimming Stone shade of sky that leaves you with some kind of will to live.

I'm not the only Suvverner here who struggles with the weather. The light's different, they say. Spring comes three weeks later. Some have lightboxes. Others spend lots of time looking on Right Move at houses in sunny places they might like to retire to.

Like London.

The Northerners are much more matter of fact. It's just a bit wet, they say, or I don't like hot weather anyway. But my favourite was: It's why it's noticeably more open and friendly up North. We have to create our own sun. 

So where am I now with it all?

Well, I have developed some coping strategies (Definitely in Stage 3 of my culture shock now):

1. If it's Full Blast sunshine, I grab it. Even if it means sitting in the garden like a twat with my face upturned like a solar panel for five minutes. You can't think I'll go out later. It might be Double Drops by then.

2. I plan to choose holiday destinations with a high sunshine index.

3. I will meet with my weather-moaning buddy (a fellow Suvvener) regularly and moan. Therapy, innit.

4. I will bathe in the warmth of the people. I think it really does outweigh the crap weather.

Oh, and then there's always Jim's golden nugget of wisdom to cling onto:

Denmark is the happiest country in the world and they don't have good weather. It's not that important. Put a coat on.

Yeah, thanks Jim.