Sunday, 8 July 2012

Precipitation within sight

The forecast rain finally arrived sometime during the night and I woke to the sound of water streaming down instead of chickens clucking as I usually do. I lay there for a while thinking again how lucky we had been yesterday. When I went downstairs, the Sage reminded me that today was the Street Fair in Yagnub, so I stopped gloating and felt sorry for the people who had antique stalls there instead. It cleared up for a while in fact, but then absolutely tipped down.

How many words are the Inuits supposed to have for snow? They're surely eclipsed by the ways we describe our rain. From spitting, spotting, drizzle, mizzle, shower, fine rain, steady rain, downpour or cloudburst to more colourful expressions such as tipping it down, pissing down, raining cats and dogs, teeming with rain, pouring with rain, coming down in bucketfuls, and descriptions of the weather conditions such as thunderstorm, sleet, squally shower, blustery shower and monsoon (we do like to exaggerate) or the effects, such as a flood or deluge, we've got a description for all our weather and we know just what we mean. You'd not call that gentle, fine penetrating rain a downpour, however steady it is and however wet it makes you, but 'nice weather for ducks' can describe almost any sort of rain.

When the sun shines for more than a day or two, it's turned out nice again. We don't have much to say about the sun. It might be pleasant, but after a couple of days it's a scorcher and soon after that we've had enough. The garden, or the farmer, needs the rain we say and most of us can't wait to have something to complain about again.

When we lived in Lowestoft, the private roadway leading to our house, the Rectory and the church had a drain just by our gate which tended to block after heavy rain, leaving a large puddle. Once I looked out to see Weeza and Al, who had gone out in raincoats and wellies, wading into the puddle up to their knees. They had taken off their wellies and, roaring with laughter, they were filling them with water and emptying them out again. I didn't stop them. For one thing, there wasn't much point. They were as wet as they could possibly be and it was far too late to do anything about that. And they were having such fun that I couldn't bear to be a spoilsport.

14 comments:

Tim said...

What a wonderful post, Z. I was going to write about rain, but you've stolen my thunder.

mig said...

One of the nicest things about living in England is never knowing what the weather will do next. Of course that's also one of the most exasperating things.

lom said...

Snap! There is a drain at the bottom of our road that floods when we have rain, the kids have been having a great time over the past few weeks.

Rog said...

We still get a 1ft giant puddle in our road which the local drivers like to his at 40mph causing a massive arc of spray. The local kids love it.

Roses said...

When Boy was little, once the rain stopped, we'd go puddle jumping.

We'd find the biggest puddles and try our very best to make the biggest splashes.

We used to have such a hoot after being stuck indoors for so long.

Pat said...

As I was reminded recently the weather in Austrlia is extreme - eithr blazing sunshine or torrential rain. They are strangers to the lovely soft rain we often have - which is so good for our co11spartzemplexions.

Pat said...

Bloody 'ell!
What is the WV doing in my comment?

PixieMum said...

During yesterday evenings torrential downpour I noticed a waterful stream of water outside the French windows.

Looking out from the room above it was clear the gutter was blocked so Ian joined a trowel to a broom handle with duct (or is it duck) tape and managed, through the open window to dig the mud out.

Z said...

Oh Tim, splendid!

Pat, I was concerned that Tourette's was setting in.

Duct I think, Madeleine - just as well Ian was able to get at it from above, it's a messy job clearing guttering or a downpipe over your head.

Glad that we all enjoy a good puddle - there's still a youthful outlook around the Zeddery!

Liz said...

"..most of us can't wait to have something to complain about again" - that is so true!

But, as Billy Connolly says, "There is no such thing as bad weather; there's only the wrong clothes."

Somebody else (I can't remember who) said that the English like to talk about the weather because we have a lot of it. We haven't had anything like as much rain in Ipswich as some places have had. My Mum text me on Friday to say that it had been raining for 7 hours there and that my Dad was in the shed building an ark.

john.g. said...

Yoy missed "slashing it down" !

Z said...

I missed 'coming down in stair-rods,' too. I'm open to suggestions, dear heart.

Z said...

I rather like the Englishness of being constantly interested in the weather, Liz. We've always got something to talk about, whether to friends or strangers.

luckyzmom said...

Possibly the reason England is so green.