The meteors are definitely off tonight, then.
I reckon I could go into the weather forecasting business, based on the fact that I entirely called it weather-wise for tonight’s celestial activities. As I sit and write this, Thor himself is raining down a merry dance on our homestead. So probably not the night to go and stand outside and stare skyward.
Not that it isn’t tempting to let this electrically charged precipitation wash all over me because it’s been ridiculously warm today and even warmer at work with temperatures reaching a balmy “frick me!” on the walking into a room scale. And that’s with the fan heaters blowing cold air all afternoon.
Obviously that’s the hot weather over and done with now. The thunder has come and marked the end of it, clearing the air for the colder weather that we’re more accustomed to through April and May, into June and probably beyond. Apart from that one random day when it’ll be hot as buggery and every news channel will run a segment about how hot it is featuring pretty girls lying in the park. Because that’s why they do.
But then, it’s a good test for all the planting and stuff that’s been done while the weather has been awesome. It’s always nice to see how stuff recently planted out survives under a sudden heavy downpour. We’ve got a bleeding heart which is held together with a meat skewer, some washi tape (which is like masking tape but with ambition) and the stick out of an ice lolly. I dread to think how that’s holding up. And just as it was about to flower, too…
Not that I can take any credit for the work in the garden. Carole got up almost before the sun this morning to crack on with green-fingered things. And, as she is prone to, she did it silently and without announcing that she was going outside or, shortly afterwards, going to a shop to buy a further ridiculous amount of plants and some more pots. Because she likes to let her loved ones sleep in the morning and not apprise them of every movement.
She’s planning on doing the same tomorrow morning.
I might have to sleep with my fingers in my ears. No-one needs to see that sort of early morning on a Sunday…