British Summertime

There is no bigger oxymoron than the phrase "British summertime." Apparently, June was the wettest month since records began, and so far July isn't getting any drier. We've had a few days above 70 degrees since March, but let's just say I don't think I'll be putting away my winter jumpers anytime soon.

I know I shouldn't complain too much. My parents have been experiencing 100+ degree heat and saturating humidity in NC, and the Midwest/Mid-Atlantic has been plagued with severe storms and power outages. I would gladly trade them a few inches of our rain for a few degrees of their heat.
Even Crumpet was bemoaning the soggy weather on the way to nursery school this morning.

"I'm fed up with all this rain," she said.

"I know," I agreed. "I am too."

"Poor Queenie," she continued.

"Queenie? Who's Queenie?"

"Of the country."

"You mean the Queen of England?"

"Yes."

"Why do you say 'Poor Queenie'?"

"Because of the rain."

"I wouldn't worry about the Queen," I reassured her. "I'm sure she's indoors enjoying a nice cup of tea."