Global Warming? Bring it On!

Oh, that's going to make me popular, I can tell. But let me put my case first...

It's currently the middle of June and I actually cannot remember the last time we had more than one day without rain since April, when it was freakily dry for almost an entire month. It has rained and rained and rained and rained. My lawn is like the Everglades, my roses are composting on the bush. It's rained so much that if I were an M&S advert, I'd now be breathing huskily and coming over all sotto voce and sexily Irish to tell you that 'This is not just rain, this is full-on Kenyan Bush, green-up-the-desert January monsoon rain...'. You get the picture. (And I live in South Norfolk where we still have drainage. People in Yorkshire are floating around their living rooms trying to salvage their children as I write this.)

So much for flaming June. I've barely hung anything out on the washing line and only just turned the heating off. Which means I have no way of getting anything dry without using the drier, which in turn makes me feel that I'm stamping on the planet's face with the biggest carbon Doc Martens I can find. Ironically, when it rains it's not too cold, but when it's not raining it's like February. Consequently, with all the sweat/shiver dichotomies going on, plus the wet, airless, damp classrooms/cars/offices we all cram ourselves into, viruses are breeding like rabbits. And mutating like Mixie rabbits. So everyone's ill. If it's not the flu/cough virus it's the throat or the D&V or the Lurid Running Snot bug peculiar to kids.

Now. Don't get me wrong. I know that years ago people just dealt with this. Years ago no one had tumble driers. Years ago no one was hyper-clean enough to get simple bacterial/viral bugs that didn't actually kill or disfigure you in some way. Anyone over 50 will happily tell me this. BUT. Years ago they didn't have enough clothes to warrant washing more than once a week; years ago they were begging for sanitation to wipe out childhood killer diseases, and years ago, they did not have the bloody media ramming down their necks what a great summer it was going to be.
I mean, look at it. In April, the sun shone and that was it. All the stuff on the news about how this would be the hottest summer on record (again. Can it be the hottest summer EVERY year?), how the elderly were all going to die in droves unless they watched GMTV and picked up the latest how-to-keep-cool advice, how the nation would soon be swapping good old English flowers and veg for grape vines and olives, and how taxidermy would soon be the only way we'll get to admire most British wildlife.
I even had a letter from Arthritic Son's rheumatology team informing me, due to the warning of the hottest summer ever, that the Methotrexate means we must remember to be extra Sun Safe with him. Which, should the sun ever bother to make another appearance, of course I will. It's just classic that yesterday he had a school trip and on the list of things he needed was 'wellies, a raincoat and a sun hat'.

Also, I do my bit for the planet (yes, actually, I do - I am a 4-bin woman, a recycling queen and I'd give anything for abusing 4x4s and the drivers of to be made legal) but I can't help thinking that the planet does do a bit of its own thing anyway. I mean, I live in Norfolk and once upon a time it used to home to woolly mammoths. Before that, volcanoes. I was alive in 1976 when the entire country turned savannah, and stranded by the summer floods eight years ago - the reason I bought my first ever mobile phone.
So, is it me?