As I look outside my window today the sun is, for the first time in a very, very long time, blasting the hell out of the street below and incinerating the ginger-headed, pale skinned, nearby children foolish enough to venture into its brilliantly bright domain.
I live in Ireland, you see. The weather in Ireland tends to range from rainy drizzle to heavy showers to drizzly rain to torrential downpour. It rains here. A lot. It's got something to do with the way the winds from the Atlantic, the North wind, the wind from Europe and some other bit of wind all collide above Ireland and decide to rain all over (literally) our parade.
(The average day in Dublin)
The thing is though, that we, as a race, have gotten used to the rain. I, for one, will never, ever, no matter how obnoxiously heavy the rain is, use an umbrella. I hate them. They break easily, they barely shield you from the rain (which, given the wind, tends to be horizontal) and they are a general nuisance. I prefer to get rained on and deal with it.
That is not to say that we don't complain about the rain. Oh no, we (as in, the Irish), will complain about absolutely anything that we can. Thus, slowly and with great reluctance, my point emerges.
When it rains here, which it does, with great, almost constant, frequency, we complain about it. We hate it when it's cold and rainy. Yet today, and for the past few days, it has been consistently sunny in the extreme and I have heard nothing but complaining!
(Dublin at the moment)
Sure, I've heard “Lovely day isn't it?” or “Bit o' sun at last eh?” but more often than that I've heard “Jaysus, it's terrible hot isn't it?” or “I'm after getting burnt!”
I don't know if its just the Irish that do this. When it rains, all you hear is “I wish it'd stop raining and be sunny for a change…” Here then! Enjoy it! It's sunny! Oh, what's that? It's too warm?
It wrecks my head, Ladies and Gentlemen.
