I hate complaining about the weather. It’s such an ‘English’ thing to do.

But, let’s face it, when Brits experience such extremes it unsurprisingly becomes a topic of conversation.

I am not sure a Nomad in the Sahara meets his neighbour while taking the camel out for an early morning walk and ventures: “Phew, hot today, don’t you think?”

After my pigeon experience I had become a little down hearted, I don’t mind admitting. So, a weekend break, away from the allotment toil, has been welcome.

Still, there were a hardy few who battled with the gale force winds and sideways rain to make the rest of us look bad.

I don’t ever remember ‘celebrating’ the arrival of rain or cursing a deep frost, but weather now has that effect on me.

I now shout abuse at weatherman Simon ‘I used to be a kids TV presenter’ Parkin as he informs us of the weekend showers in Newbury and Brackley.

This is not normal behaviour.