Oh for the wonderful English climate.

Oh for the wonderful English climate.

If you thought last year in Britain was hot then you wouldn't be surprised to hear that this summer hasn't been that bad at all. Last Thursday the country exceeded all expectations once again with an entire day of almost 100 degrees of sweltering heat that none of us could quite believe. As July approaches its end there is a widespread feeling that, all things considered, it hasn't been a bad summer at all. It's had its moments of course but then you'd hardly expect anything else.

Way back in June it seemed as if the good, old fashioned English summer had reverted back to type or maybe that should be a stereotype. The rains came in their relentless torrents and most of us were digging out our mackintoshes, raincoats and umbrellas by the million. There were floods, inky black skies, gloomy mornings, languid afternoons and dreary evenings when it looked as though we'd have to resign ourselves to a traditional English summer of dullness and disappointment.

But then just as if by a sweet miracle the tennis at Wimbledon arrived in all its glory and splendour.  Suddenly the heavens began to smile, skies noticeably clearing and the bright blue canvases of summer were here to stay. Somebody had obviously thought the time was right time to bring out those delicate oil paints and decorate our days with some of the most morale boosting light and shade. When all was said and done Wimbledon at least avoided those familiar rushes for cover as the rain fell from a weeping sky. So all was good and the coast was clear. You could now eat those strawberries and cream.

It's hard to know why the British attach so much importance to the weather's extremes and fluctuations. Maybe it's something we've grown up with and grown accustomed to since childhood? Perhaps our parents grew weary with summers that should have been warm but never were and then complained endlessly when the winters were unbearably cold. There had to be a happy medium but sadly this was never the case.

It's often said that years and years ago the summers were warmer and the winters were just frighteningly colder but then we were probably taught to believe in these rose tinted images. Still, here we are at the end of July and everything is as it should be. Outside, it's overcast and heavy with yet another band of rain, another brief spell of dramatic summer storms, weak and watery sunshine in intermittent spells and there is a splendid unpredictability about the British weather.

What cannot be denied however is that the British climate never fails to amaze us with its wildly differing moods and often humorous spells of indecision. The British weather is renowned for its infinite variations on a theme throughout its daily visit and versatility on a grand scale because no other country in the world could possibly change and disguise itself within the space of  perhaps five minutes or so.

Frequently we are told that in any British road and neighbourhood that it can be raining quite persistently for the best part of a day while on the other side of your road a heatwave that will burnish the pavements and homes with the brightest coat of emulsion. And yet there is something very quirkily whimsical and lovable about the British weather that none of us would swap for the world.

At times some of us are convinced that the weather is teasing and flirting with us, challenging us, playing with our emotions, deliberately provoking us into some amusing comment. We wipe the sweat from our fevered brow in record breaking heat and then spend the next week or so complaining about it. This is followed by another session of blood vessel bursting exasperation when it pours down in Biblical abundance. Oh no, not another day of constant, demoralising rain, we cry. Not another day for the completion of jig saw puzzles with 5,000 pieces or the trusty Monopoly. How frustrating!

And yet some of us take consolation in the fact that at least Gene Kelly got soaked in Singing in the Rain while twirling his umbrella and clinging onto sodden street lights but you never saw him mope.. During the 1970s  Morecambe and Wise, in quite the most unforgettable comedy sketch of all time, carried out the most wonderful impersonation of Kelly but then Eric and Ern never took life seriously at all and they certainly weren't going to let a lengthy shower or two to dampen their spirits.

So there you have it everybody. Boris Johnson is Britain's new Prime Minister, England are the new World cricket champions and the World Thumb Wrestling Championship is well under way. When it looked remarkably as if the England cricket team were about to be beaten by Ireland, the status quo was quickly restored and England still won quite conclusively. Who could ask for anything more? What a summer, what a climate!