I remember, probably some 10 or 11 years ago (Gillie, if you’re still “popping” by, you’ll remember it too), going down to a friend’s house for her birthday party (mid-July).

The plan was to have a barbecue “party” in her newly done garden.

Sounds good, right?

Well, yes, except this was in England. We travelled down for the weekend. It was going to be great. A summer barbecue, no driving so plenty of drinking and relaxing in the warmth of summer.

But, as I said, this was England. Summer can be lovely but you never know exactly when that “summer” will show its face. And when it does, it’s not always for long. A couple of weeks is pretty good. More than that is strange/climate change/immigrants/European directives or something.

Anyway, we travelled down on the Friday night. And it was cold. and by cold, I mean something like 12°C.

Obviously, the barbecue was modified and the food was cooked in the house.

The reason I mention this is because of last night. But let’s go back to a couple of nights ago, when F and I were heading off to our usual bar. I remarked to F that it was “more like September.” You know, the days can be as hot as hell but the evenings can be a bit chilly and the mornings more so.

He agreed. “It’s not normal,” was his reply.

Today, after the chilly start this morning, just after lunch, I went out for a cigarette and, standing in the sun, it was almost too hot. I say almost – but not really for me. Probably less than 30°. But, last night. Last night was a different thing. In the middle of the night, F awoke saying he was cold. Indeed, I was cold too and struggling to sleep. He put on layers of clothes and I got up and, out of the wardrobe, got the thin duvet/bed cover. Yes, it was THAT cold.

According to “my” weather forecast, it may have got down to about 16°. In any event, I’ve really had enough of it. One day hot and beautiful sunshine, the next cold and cloudy or long showers. Just the other day, a river in Milan burst its banks and flooded some Northern part of the city!

As I say to all the people who will listen, I didn’t come here to be subjected to an English summer – for that is how it feels.

On the other hand, it’s ideal weather for packing and sorting and moving.

But, on 1st August, we go to Carrara for our holiday. It’d better be perking itself up real soon and at least by the end of July!