LETTER: Mini heatwave has led Brits to show their true colours

The current mini heatwave has shown the British in their true colours, as the beaches of Britain are crowded to capacity, the social distancing rules are conveniently forgotten, as a sun tan overrides getting a dose of the dreaded Covid-19.

The nights are no better, with temperatures in the 80s, fitful sleeping has become the norm. However, in true British style, not seen since colonial days, the stiff upper lip takes precedence, and a conversation between two minor civil service functionaries was overheard, in their basement office, in Whitehall.

“I say Mr Cholmondley Warner, this damnable heat is causing somewhat of a problem. Miss Murfin has informed me that all her carbon paper has melted.” ... "I say Grayson, that is somewhat of a problem. I can only suggest that our secretary use the standby quill pen, and emergency parchment. This heat is causing some minor irritations upstairs. They are allowing the removal of waistcoats, but only in the members bar.” The conversation rambled on with references to stiff detachable collars, and fair isle socks.

Back in the real world, the gardens of England are having a revival, as the abundance of potted plants, garden ornaments and outdoor furniture flies off the shelves. Here in Levy Towers, her indoors and I have spent most of the last few days in the sunshine. What would have been spent on a day out visiting the stately homes of England, has now been invested in flowers, bushes, and colourful earthenware pots. The tomatoes have started to turn red, and the last of the strawberries and raspberries have been picked and eaten.

The heat lends itself to outdoor pursuits, paddling pools in the garden are happy to accommodate laughing children, while mum and dad relax in their deck chairs, shades on, sipping something cool and alcoholic. Pottering about outdoors is very therapeutic, even the birds have embraced human presence on these hot languid days. As the wife and I mooch about at one end of the garden, our regular avian clients show no fear and dart between the feeders, water bowl, and birdbath.

The hot, still air is alive with midges and honey bees, and as the buddleia is in full bloom, myriads of colourful butterflies gorge on the blossoms. Underfoot, the ants are active, scuttling about in a frenzy, making good use of the weather, and the abundance of available food. The good weather has also caused an explosion in the mice population. The first inkling of their presence was teeth marks visible in half eaten strawberries, and so out came the traps. I have in the last few weeks consigned many to the mice Valhalla, that great cheese factory in the sky.

The raptors have quick to turn the clear blue skies to their advantage. On several occasions I have had to clear the lawn of the bloody remains of doves and sparrows, the small fluffy white feathers remaining are quickly retrieved by nesting birds, and we have been privileged to have two pairs of nesting goldfinches in one of our trees. This attracts tree rats, American grey squirrels, which are quickly despatched with my trusty 22. Before you have a fit, this part of middle England is rural, not the big city, where kids feed the dam things in inner city parks, the little blighters raid the nests, kill the fledglings, and eat the new laid eggs. They are rodents.

“I say Grayson, I did hear that Carlton Brown, has been relived of his command. He had the audacity too remove his suit jacket in the office. It’s just not done, that sort of thing, its just not British.”

Note to letters editor.:-The squirrel bit, may upset the snowflakes, tree huggers and the save the polar bear brigade, I just had to include it, as a measure of real life, out here in the wilds of empire. As for the civil service bit, it’s just me sounding off as to the mind set of that shambles in London, who could not organise the running of a bath, never mind a country in crisis.

Tony Levy, Wednesfield

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