A new word for you

You may have noticed the weather recently, It's the middle of June and people are still going out wearing anoraks, scarves and winter coats. One of my students told me the other day that, so far this year, there has only been one day when she hasn't worn a vest (Unterhemd).

Well, the other day I came across a word that exactly describes the kind of weather we have been having this month: Juneuary. 

This is when you have the weather of January in June. I don't know who came up with it, but I think it's sheer genius.

Mad dogs and Englishmen

I know that the disappearance and eventual discovery of Dr Michael Mosley even made it into the German press. Dr Mosley qualified as a medical doctor but decided to join the BBC instead where he ended up presenting lots of programmes on TV and on the radio as well as writing books - all on the topic of health.

What caused him to focus on what one can do to improve one's health was the early death of his father at the age of 74. His father had developed diabetes and Dr Mosley didn't want to suffer in the same way, so when he, too, was diagnosed with diabetes, he did all he could to reverse it, which he did. He then became an evangelist for good health, promoting, in particular, the 5:2 fasting diet. (This is when you eat only 600 calories on two days of the week but eat sensibly on the other five.) As he said, his father never got to see his grandchildren grow up and that's not a fate that he wanted to suffer.

Well, Dr Michael Mosley is now dead. At the age of 67. Seven years earlier than his own father. Despite all his good health tips, his healthy lifestyle, and the fact that his own wife is a GP (general practitioner).

And why did he die so early? Because this qualified doctor, with all the research he had done over decades, thought it was a good idea to go for a walk in the early afternoon, in open countryside, in the searing heat of 37 degrees Celsius, with a small bottle of water, an umbrella and no mobile phone. Two hours later, he was dead. Of heatstroke. So all that healthy living was for nothing.

How could he think going for a walk in those temperatures was a good idea? How could his GP wife let him? Sometimes, cliches originate from general truths. One of them is "when in Rome, do as the Romans do". Does the local population on that small Greek island go for a walk at the hottest time of the day? Do they? Do they heck. So what made him think it would be fine for him to do so?

Noel Coward, an English composer, playwright, director, actor and wit (a sort of 20th century Oscar Wilde), once wrote a song called Mad Dogs & Englishmen. Basically, the gist of the song went like this: Mad dogs and Englishmen, Go out in the midday sun. It seems that it's still true today.

Here is the suave and urbane Noel Coward (died 1973) singing his own song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KkEd3WgR8qw

And as he goes at quite a pace, here are the lyrics:

In tropical climes there are certain times of day
When all the citizens retire
To tear their clothes off and perspire.
It's one of those rules that the greatest fools obey,
Because the sun is much too sultry
And one must avoid its ultry-violet ray.

The native grieve when the white men leave their huts,
Because they're obviously definitely nuts!

Mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday sun,
The Japanese don't care to.
The Chinese wouldn't dare to,
Hindoos and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve to one.
But Englishmen detest a siesta.
In the Philippines
There are lovely screens
To protect you from the glare.
In the Malay States
There are hats like plates
Which the Britishers won't wear.
At twelve noon
The natives swoon
And no further work is done.
But mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday sun.

It's such a surprise for the Eastern eyes to see
That though the English are effete,
They're quite impervious to heat,
When the white man rides every native hides in glee,
Because the simple creatures hope he
Will impale his solar topee on a tree.

It seems such a shame
When the English claim
The earth
That they give rise to such hilarity and mirth.

Mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday sun.
The toughest Burmese bandit
Can never understand it.
In Rangoon the heat of noon
Is just what the natives shun.
They put their Scotch or Rye down
And lie down.
In a jungle town
Where the sun beats down
To the rage of man and beast
The English garb
Of the English sahib
Merely gets a bit more creased.
In Bangkok
At twelve o'clock
They foam at the mouth and run,
But mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday sun.

Mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday sun.
The smallest Malay rabbit
Deplores this foolish habit.
In Hongkong
They strike a gong
And fire off a noonday gun
To reprimand each inmate
Who's in late.
In the mangrove swamps
Where the python romps
There is peace from twelve till two.
Even caribous
Lie around and snooze;
For there's nothing else to do.
In Bengal
To move at all
Is seldom, if ever done.
But mad dogs and Englishmen
Go out in the midday
out in the midday
out in the midday
out in the midday
out in the midday
out in the midday
out in the midday sun.

Source: Musixmatch

Dear Noel in his younger days:

Blame the cold and the rain on me

Two Februarys ago, that is to say, in February 2023, I had a 4.6 m long awning (Markise) installed on my balcony. It cost me an arm and a leg, but since Germany had been having heatwaves for 19 years and had been suffering from a drought for the last six years, I didn't think the situation was going to change.

Even at 7.30 a.m. in the spring months, I had to leave the balcony and go indoors because my east-facing balcony is a heat trap. Put a thermometer out on the balcony table at breakfast time and you could watch the mercury rise to 50 degrees C in a matter of minutes. How much higher it would actually go, I don't know. The scale stops at 50 C. I could, however, sunbathe on my balcony at 8 a.m. in March or April. 

I remember once having breakfast on the balcony with my oldest cousin and my legs started cooking. Since my jeans are always black in colour, you can imagine how the material soaks up the early morning heat. When I showed my cousin my skin, it was mottled. The heat did that.

And, of course, my poor plants were exposed to the heat all morning, until the sun disappeared around the building at about 1 p.m. They really suffered.

Thus, in the end, I bit the bullet and actually spent some money. Not an easy thing for me to do. And that was in February of last year.

Since then, we've had rain, rain and more rain. Germany's drought was officially deemed over in about October 2023 and for the first time in years, the lake in the local park is now actually full to the brim. Marvellous. However, I only used the awning about four times last year and this year have done so only once. Once! 

We're heading towards the middle of June and not long after that it will be the longest day of the year and the days will then start to wane, and I'm still going to bed with a hot water bottle. Still wearing anoraks and scarves when I go outside. Still wearing layers to keep warm. Today, I even took my long, thick cardigan out of the wardrobe again. And don't even think of leaving home without an umbrella. You may think it's stopped raining for the day, but the weather is just trying to lure you outside so it can rain on you again.

So if you are wondering, what the hell happened to all the heat we used to have, blame me. I finally go to the expense of having an awning installed to protect myself and my plants from the searing heat, and the weather changes drastically and we have nothing but rain and cold. Go on. My shoulders are broad. I can bear the blame.

Not my actual balcony, but I did go for grey and yellow stripes in a different pattern.