I had a close friend whose favourite expression was:
'It may well be January outside but it is July under your armpits'.
I hadn't thought of it for years and was only reminded when I looked at the sheep, semi-hidden in the fog and as I shivered, this old friend's stupid phrase kept going round and round my head. This is July, goddamn it, I thought. I shouldn't be shivering. I should be hot under the arms. In the North of England, it is the only month when it can get hot, occasionally steamy hot.
What can you do?
I thought I could do two things. Firstly for the last few weeks all I have heard is people talking about breaking records. Usain Bolt does this. Serena Williams does that. Fernando Torres does the other. So why don't I do the same and start breaking records I have experienced in the North of England?
So I have.
This is the first time I have ever worn thermal underwear in July. Record No. 1.
Depth of puddles. Double the norm. Record No.2.
How long it takes for your clothes to dry. Three days. Usually it is measured in hours. Record No.3
Number of days the heating has been turned on this summer. 21. Unheard of. Record No.4.
The second thing I did was to try something different to deflect one's mind away from the dreadful weather. I tried to produce the dullest Jubilee decoration in the county. I think I may have succeeded. I have some friends who run one of the best flower businesses in the North called Flowers Unlimited. I thought I could start up in opposition to them and call myself Flowers Very Limited.
But then again the fog is so thick, I would never find the places I was supposed to deliver to.
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