Weather eye

Rainbows bring out a childlike sense of wonder in me; especially double rainbows, and I have seen two of those this week. Because they are so rare, I feel they simply have to be auspicious.

To be rewarded by the rainbow, however, it is necessary to first have the rain. After a global-warmed and dried early spring, there hasn’t been much of that around here recently. The ground has been hard as concrete and scored by deep cracks like the lines on an octogenarian’s face. If that isn’t a demonstration of the aging effects of the sun, I don’t know what is.

The rain has returned with a vengeance. Northumberland already boasts the best skies in Britain: big, bold and expressive. This week, the skies have surpassed themselves in their dramatic, Turner-esque turmoil. I always imagine Wagner would provide the ideal accompaniment to the movement of a stormy sky.

Today’s rain also seems to have stopped my sneezing. Bring it on!

Yellow peril

The look this spring is bloodshot eyes and a dripping nose, accessorised with a barking cough. But get it while you can – it only lasts while the oilseed rape is in flower.

I feel as if someone has sprayed pepper up my nose. I am sick of sneezing. I am not alone in this affliction; I know lots of people who have never been affected before who are cursing the yellow peril this year. One of my friends reckons that oilseed rape is banned in America because of health concerns. I don’t know how true this is, but I wish it were banned in my vicinity.

Apparently, eating honey made by local bees can build up your immunity and protect you against oilseed rape pollen. I considered buying ‘rapeseed honey’ from Aldi, but I don’t think it was made by Northumbrian bees.

In bed at night, as my nose drips into the pillow, I fantasise about another cure for my ills. If I could start a clandestine campaign, just like the Luddites of old, with an army of the afflicted equipped with blowtorches …

That would sort it.