Skip to main content

Let's all play Bank Holiday Top Trumps!

Thanks, Mother Nature.

After a tantalising taste of sunshine and warmth over the weekend, Bank Holiday Monday was, once again, wetter than a goldfish’s living room.

Still, it wasn’t a complete waste of an otherwise perfectly good Monday, was it? Being British, some of us will have attempted to soldier on determinedly, whilst muttering “It’s just a bit of rain! Come on, it’ll be fun!” and hoping that someone would believe us, or at least go along with it for a bit.

I reckon there is a good case for turning our Bank Holiday mud bath into a fun game for all the family though. So I’ve come up with some categories for Bank Holiday Top Trumps. Who can score the highest in each category? How exciting!

1) Car Boot Sales turned into a less amusing version of ‘It’s A Knockout’ by the weather, with people desperately trying to sell a bunch of rusting tools, kids clothes, radio cassette players, VHS tapes and Beezer Annuals from 1974, whilst attempting to stay upright with water flung at them from all angles, and the boot of their Volvo estate slowly turning into a paddling pool.

2) Number of weather ‘presenters’ counted on TV trying to put a brave face on the fact that they have to tell you that you might as well stay indoors, unless your favourite thing in the whole wide world is getting damp, or you’re an otter.

3) Largest amount of time spent queuing to get into somewhere, whilst stood behind someone who doesn’t move forwards straight away when the queue moves, leaving a gap you’re scared someone else will jump into, but are too polite/scared to say anything. (Umbrella angst optional.)

4) Number of children saying “I’m booooored!” (It may be necessary to have extra wide playing cards if this category is included, due to the count probably requiring at least four digits.)

5) Amateur sporting events that still go ahead, because they took a lot of planning, and no-one wants to be the one to say “Let’s just call it off and go for a pint instead, eh?”.

6) Cost of the most over-priced, and conversely most disappointing, piece of cake purchased whilst sheltering from the rain when you’re meant to be outside enjoying yourself.

7) Estimated length of the traffic jam you sat in, trying to get back from the somewhat depressing day out with the family, during which one of the kids was sick, and the other one was accused of biting a dog, in an entertaining twist that at least raised the analysis of the day over a large drink later from “complete disaster” to “slightly bizarre complete disaster”.

8) People you saw out of the cafe window wearing walking gear and striding purposefully towards a nearby hill, with a beatific look on their face, which made you comment that they really need some kind of specialist help if that’s their idea of fun.

Bank Holidays. They’re rubbish, aren’t they? Let’s not have another one until August.

This post first appeared in my 'Thank grumpy it's Friday" column in the North West Evening Mail, on the 31st of May 2013. You can view the edited version on their website here They retitled it 'Wet Bank Holidays trump all the rest' which is actually pretty damn clever, isn't it? One sentence was editied out, which was the 'Who can score the highest...', so no great loss.

As is always the case whenever I write a piece about bad weather, it immediately turns warm an sunny, making me look like a moany git by the time it goes into print. Gah.

(Listening to the excellent 'Sounds Of The Sixties' on BBC Radio 2 right now. Splendid!)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A very modern malady

Hello. I’m Doctor Grenville, and I’m here today to talk to you about SSS – or “Sad Selfie Syndrome”, to give it it’s full medical name. I’m a fully qualified medical doctor thing – I’ve got a PhD from Queens University Academy College Kendal (or “QUACK” for short) to prove it. That means it’s OK for me to talk to you about a very sensitive subject today and stroke your knee. Soothing, no? In my many years of medicinalising practice, I’ve come across some terrible afflictions. I’ve seen Achey Breaky Heart, Kneesles (where you get an itchy rash on your kneecaps) and even a very rare case of the Mercedes Benz. But recently I started seeing shocking images, on social media, graphically showing the devastating results of SSS. If you haven’t heard of it before, you’ve almost certainly seen pictures of what happens to the victims, who are mostly under the age of 30. We’ve already come to understand the irrational, overwhelming need for some amongst this group to photograph everythin...

Fantasy Formula 1 - Hungary Results

Sometimes there's a wonderful "huh?" moment in F1. Today's was when the lights didn't go to red at the start, but flashed green and yellow. I'm sure all the drivers are briefed, and everyone knows the drill, but they all just sat there - no-one wanted to be the first to move. In the most high-tech sport in the world, it took Charlie Whiting waving at them to make them go. To be honest, it wasn't the most thrilling of races, but Happy Hamilton "The slow boys won't get out of my way! It's not fair! Boohoohooo - I'm telling Charlie!" winning does mean the front end of the points table still looks deliciously tight. What we really need now, as the excitement level ramps up, is.... to take 5 weeks off. Dammit. Still, to keep you occupied, I want you to memorise the points you all scored today. It's easy to remember mine. I came last... RACE RESULT Position Name Point...

Welcome to Costa del Barrow

Feel that sudden chill in the air? It’s winter, heading this way. Or you’ve left the fridge door open. One of those, definitely. According to people with the word ‘meteorologist’ somewhere in their job title, it has been the driest September since records began. Hardly surprising, really – the wettest winter on record immediately beforehand almost certainly used up all the available rain in the sky early (Note to self: check the sciencey stuff, it doesn’t sound quite right). With just 20% of the normal rainfall of the most Septembery of months, 2014 trounced the previous record holder, good old 1959. Whilst this may have led to less plump courgettes, and parched blue tits mugging you for your bottle of mineral water, it does have a beneficial side-effect: Your granddad will finally have to stop saying “Dry? You don’t know what dry is! When I were but a lad...” Clearly disappointing for grandpops, especially so soon after the “Wet winter? Pah! When I were but a lad...” sto...