Back in the day...

When I was young it was so much easier; autumn started September 1st and went right through until the End of November. By then the leaves had turned brown, dropped, been burnt on smoking bonfires and the ashes left to freeze in the first gentle frosts of December. Winter commenced sharp on December 1st and snowed and blew right the way through until Saint David’s day, when spring would begin prompt, thawing the icicle clad roofs, sending the frozen needles to smash on the pavements below. Spring-May would slip into Summer-June, and overnight the temperature would rise ten degrees and stay ‘far too hot’ until the end of August when September would bring the autumn - and the cycle would begin again.

It was all so regular, so very reliable, so evenly proportioned, each season lasting three months exactly. You knew when to expect the summer thunderstorms, the April showers, snow, fog, the first cuckoo, daffodils, haymaking - you knew where you stood, but these days…

My holiday is over. August bank holiday yesterday and it rained so hard the road in the lane outside the cottage ran like a river; just look at the poor cows on their way to milking, they look miserable. I was fortunate enough to be dry in my car, but our lane has been a river of mud for days. It rained for most of last week, making it impossible to get on with painting the cottage. The dormers remain untouched, the chimney dull with unpainted grime, and the inside of the wall streaked with washed away hard-labour-painted paint.

Back in the day this could never have happened.

Back in the day what little summer rain there was fell gently at night, freshening up the garden and laying the dust; not potholing tarmac and demolishing every plant standing.

Back in the day the paint would have dried on the cottage walls in minutes, baked hard by the heat of the sun, not left to tack in the damp and grey of a clinging miasmic summer fog.

Back in the day the painting would be long finished, brushes rinsed clean, and ladders stored; leaving us some time to go to the beach, for a walk in the fields, or a picnic on the hill - all in the glorious sunshine of those last few days of summer.

Instead - the pictures a'top and a'bottom were taken late last Wednesday evening from the roof of our kitchen, towards the mountains and just after we’d finished painting the apex. All that remained to paint were the dormers, the chimneys, and a small length of wall at the front. We had five days holiday left in which to do it – no problem surely?

It felt good to be almost there; perhaps we might even finish with a few days holiday left to enjoy ourselves. Yes, we could finish tomorrow as long as it was fine... and the evening sky looked a very promising pink - red sky at night and all that.

An hour or so later it started to rain and that – red sky or not - was that.

Oh well... I only hope that we get a couple of fine weekends before the winter gales begin…