It’s April. Nearly the end of April in fact. I am living in France. Correction: North of France.
So I wasn’t expecting sub-saharan-tropical-amazonian-australian type weather. But a little better than this.
|10°C | °F||Mon||Tue||Wed||Thu|
|Wind: S at 34 km/h|
This post is not about the weather per se. More about my changing ways.
Last night, the French boy and I were out on an aimless Sunday drive.
I made this exact comment “I really hope the weather is better this week, it has been horrible recently.” He agreed and then smiled and very pleased with himself said “you are getting very French.”
I was perturbed: “No I most certainly am not.”
He then went on to say he has never heard me complain about the weather before. Which, looking back is true. I really, really, don’t like the rain but I have (or used to have, merde) a very Irish attitude to the weather – sure lads just get out in it! The weather is always pretty rubbish in Ireland so you just have to get over it and put on twenty layers, bring an umbrella and get your shit done. However, all over France about a month ago, it was 20-25 degrees celsius and I really loved it. More than I’ve ever loved the sun before. You seduced me France, with your wily hot sunshine ways. But it was just a game of seduction, you were just teasing you sexy gallic country you! I know your true heart now! It was a marketing ploy you sneaky mother- Now, it’s nearly May and the sky is grey, cloudy, miserable looking and it likes to spit crappy humid rain on my head.
Worst of all, he also said for other things I’m getting a bit grumpy and short-tempered (I have definitely started expelling air through the three holes in my face more often) and in a nutshell, becoming more French. For those at home who thought I was pretty grumpy to begin with, France seems to be making me quite worse.
On a positive note, all that rain is making Reims green! And I do love me some greenery!
Hi little fella!