I’d make fun, but if we see 2 flakes of snow, the city shuts down.
It isn’t the heat, or the cold, or the rain, or the fog, or the drought, or the clouds, or the baking sun, or the snow, or the high humidity that makes British people whine about the weather - it is the fact that every single one of these conditions can occur at unpredictable intervals every single week - we don’t get the chance to become accustomed to any prevailing condition because none of it lasts very long, except when it does, then we complain about the unusual duration of the conditions.
So you see it is really quite understandable.
I live here in the deserty part of California, where the sun has made all of us it’s bitch. Actually caught myself telling a friend it wasn’t all that bad today, because it was only 110 degrees and the monsoons had taken a break, so no humidity.
But I’ve spent my time out of doors, working hard, in this heat and even spent the better part of a week with no power when summer storms knocked down the lines. No scoffing from BadBaby, 100 degrees when you’re not used to it and have nowhere to turn to get cool is a true blue misery. I recommend soaking your feet in the coldest water you can stand. It helps a tiny bit.
I’m with ** jjimm ** on this one. I spent the first 26 years of my life in Houston and have lived in Dallas for the past four years, and the past six weeks in Oxford England have been the sweatiest, most god-awful six weeks I can recall, bar none. There’s just nowhere to escape the heat at!
A/C makes a HUGE difference. 85 without A/C is terribly steamy and uncomfortable.
Pretty much everyone has gone to the beach. The rest of the country must’ve been largely empty this weekend. Virtually standing room only on the beach well into the evening, all hotels and b&b’s full, so there were drunken blokes sleeping pretty much anywhere they could Saturday night.
Humbug. I want a local beach for local people, where we dispose of our rubbish in the recepticles provided.
Well, on Matron’s Sticky Gonad Scale, fings were a little better through the night and today; down from ‘frightenly uncomfortable’ to merely ‘sticky and hanging heavy’ . . . and a blessed relief it is. Now I understand why those Arab types wear *roomy * attire.
London take-care-of-your-saddle-bags-and-they’ll-take-care-of-you Calling
The problem with the roomy attire is that you’ve got to be very careful that the “saddlebags” (what a disgusting term) are out of harm’s way when sitting down.
Given your recent comment in relation to the dear old Queen Mum, you are prefectly qualified to determine what might be “disgusting”
Yep, sitting down. Have you noticed that yer roomy clothed chaps tend to sit down with their knees in different hemispheres ? I used to think that manner of sitting was cultural-based . . not any more.
Another thing; hairy legs and leather car seats . . . <sharp inhale> . . . :eek:
Betty Swollocks sir?
I expect she does. And don’t call me Betty, Derek.
Roomy attire is comfortable but a potential social deathtrap.
One of my least favourite memories is a particular photograph of a Mr Paul Scholes, engaged in what I believe is referred to as a “sliding tackle”.
Unfortunately his own equivalent of that was rather exposed, presumably through an ill-thought out selection of “roomy” undergarments.
Put me right off me cornflakes, it did.
That looked fake to me. Perhaps not ?
Ginger nuts . . <sharp inhale, part deux>
Wow - what part of Yorkshire are you in? It used to take me three hours from home (15 miles south of York).
I’m in Wakefield in West Yorkshire. It’s quite some distance from York. (It’s been a while since I last went to York, so I’m not sure how far. I’m going to have to go there again at some point. York is really nice.)
Wakefield is right by the M1. It is 184 miles from London (according to Mapquest) and 174 of them are done on the motorway. Three hours. Er, plus traffic delays. On a bad day you will be more right than I thought… Take the train.
I don’t care how hot it is, I want to go! Some of you guys can come over here to visit me, where the weather’s fine and the sky and the sea and mountains are blue, and then l’ll come visit you in the winter, when it’s raining cats and dogs here, because it never rains in Britian in the win–
Well, crap.
Jodi says:
Jodi, I realize that my warning sounds obvious, but people who don’t usually have to deal with hot weather might not remember to take their young children and pets out of a hot car. If you’ll do a search in the BBQ Pit, you’ll see several threads concerning people who leave their children in hot cars, ending in tragedy. You should rethink your flip response.
Actually, I don’t think I will. The fact that I was joshin’ you seems to me to have been adequately conveyed by the big ol’ toothy smiley face. Not to mention that you yourself “realize that [your] warning sounds obvious.”
So just to clarify: I was kidding. Go sit in the shade and sip a nice cool drink and remember: It’s never too hot to retain your sense of humor. 