The weather here, what shall one say?

A conservatory is a wonderful thing. It rains outside. Classic FM presents Gustav Holst, a British composer (The Planets or so). A few minutes ago spells of sun seemed to brighten life up a bit, but the sky is ever so black. Shiver, shiver. The apple tree in the garden hesitates too long to put its blossoms out. I day dream a bit, sitting well sheltered under the glass roof of what I call the winter garden. Now, they play a clarinet concert by someone I never heared of. It is beautiful.

It is Spring in Yorkshire. I am told that it can behave like a real bastard. So it is.  The country tries to keep a stiff upper lip about current political matters such as Brexit. This is too much for most people. And there is no inspiration to be expected from the weather forecast. Heavy winds and lots of rain they say. How disgusting is this? For once, no murder, no child molestation reported by the radio. Or has Putin again stolen the political limelight as he does eventually?

I do hope that Her Majesty is not too worried over such daily events. They happen as it happens: always as some unforeseen surprise. The steel industry will, hopefully, not suffer too much. The weather is horrible enough. So, let us look ahead and wait for better times and an impeccable sustainable climate change as a starter.