The heat is on but I’m not sure we’re cut out for all this
LADS, is it just me or is all this endless sunshine and blue skies getting a bit…. boring?
At least if you’re booked to go Spain or to anywhere in the Mediterranean you’ve got some excitement to look forward to – Storm Oscar will bring torrential rain and possible floods to the Canaries on Tuesday and there are other parts of Sunny Spain that have barely seen a clear sky in weeks.
So that’s were we are in the summer of 2023 – if you want classic Irish summer weather, you’ll have to fly to the Canaries.
Meanwhile, here in Ireland, we are all walking around in a semi-stunned condition, trying to remember what rain feels like.
There are Nans all over Ireland having nervous breakdowns because there’s literally nothing left to put in the washing machine and they are wasting all of this great drying weather.
And there are lads that are hoping their boss doesn’t realise they’ve been working remotely from their local’s beer garden since last Wednesday.
It’s all a bit too much. Seriously, we’re Irish, if we don’t have the weather to talk or moan about we basically have nothing to say to each
other. We are barely into June and there are already hosepipe bans and water restrictions in some parts the county and we can’t be that far away from some eejit setting fire to Kerry with a disposable barbecue.
We’re a funny country – if it doesn’t rain for two minutes we’re facing desert conditions, on an island that is basically 75% sponge.
We are just not built for this kind of weather – we don’t even go brown, we just kinda go a weather-beaten reddish colour with some lads turning into one giant freckle. People used to joke that global warming would turn Ireland into Spain and we’d be walking around in orange groves in our shorts all summer, sipping on sangria and taking midday siestas.
Now that it is kinda happening, it doesn’t feel good at all (if we’re honest with ourselves, we like the rain and the clouds, stops us getting notions).
Please God we’re back to the normal routine – sun, rain, clouds, an even chance of frostbite or sunburn at the beach – before too long.
If God had wanted Irishmen to live in constant sunshine he wouldn’t have given us such pasty white and twiggy legs.