I read a great line yesterday about snow in late March no longer feeling like weather, but more like a personal attack. The sentiment does ring true now. There is a running joke in the family that every time we pack away the thermal layers it snows. Yesterday, they were put back into their cupboard and an hour later the Met Office issued a yellow warning for snow on Monday.
Today, Good Friday, is traditionally a clear-up-the-garden day in our house, so we can be ready for the weekend’s visitors and lovely hours spent sitting in the gentle spring sunshine on the patio chairs, all newly brushed down, whilst the children rush around finding eggs. Well that is what happens in my head anyway.
Instead, we are checking weather reports and challenging my planning abilities.
Fortunately, we always have a wet weather alternative, and although I am relinquishing day dreams of Sunday afternoon spent on the patio sipping prosecco whilst the youngsters entertain each other by hunting eggs, we will of course have fun.
Meanwhile, I have memories of a glorious warm sunny spring day last weekend, which felt like it topped up fuel reserves for a few weeks. I am continuing taking Vitamin D and getting outside as much as I possibly can. My other tactic is booking camping trips, that always gives me hope that summer is inevitable.
And I possibly ought to remember that it is just weather, it’s not a personal attack at all.