Inconsistent Heat in waves.

I’ll say it in a whisper; I like the rain.

I like the rain at night, especially if it’s a hot night, as it is likely to be tonight, because we are having a heat wave. I know about the heat wave as I have seen news paper images of people on crowded beaches (there are so few beaches in the UK that people can only select from two or three; so it seems and cram themselves on) Topping the pictures is a Heat Wave headline, scorchio but more imaginative and pun like.

I like heat waves too. I like heat waves if I am lay next to a warm clear sea, and I am totally free of body hair and cellulite, if the sand or pebbles are not so hot as to scorch my feet, and if there is icy cold juice nearby, and I have a wide brimmed hat that will not blow away in the wind. The trouble with heat waves is they are only suited to certain circumstances, beach body aside; the heat wave is ideal holiday weather. It is not suited to; DIY, gardening or as I recently discovered in a film of sweat; vacuuming. The heat wave is great if it coincides with your non working days and if you are prepared for it, watermelon in the fridge, garden clean and decorated with trendy colourful objects, a garden table with a bright cloth and a vase of white flowers, a jug of Pim’s; we've all seen the TV ads.

Heat waves, show up the dust, they make carpets feel dirty, they lead to open windows, the doors bang, the dog is afraid and tries to hide behind the ironing board (really he does that), through the open windows come the sound of women screaming, bellowing at their overheated over tired children, from the back lane we sometimes hear the man who gets drunk in the heat wave, he threatens to kill all sorts of people, I cover my nine year old's ears, his wife locks him in the garden where he boots  the bejesus out of the washing pole. Always nearby a teenager must show off his car, by playing music full volume, never, is it Nina Simone but some track performed by hyperventilating smurfs.

Heat waves are not suited to terraced house living. Neither are they in anyway reliable. Right now, in the middle of a supposed three month long heat wave; I am sat next to a basket full of wet washing, because every hour or so it has rained. The heat wave comes, the heat wave goes, the woman across the road is bellowing again and the dog has ventured outside to urinate on the pretty garden table cloth.

Maybe tonight it will rain, that warm rain, restful rain with the same lull as the sea and then I just might gently prod hubby in the ribs and suggest he do something about the leaky guttering…once the heat wave is passed you understand.