You have to go in at the deep end

THE ART OF GETTING DRENCHED: Living where we do, the rain is a constant visitor — and not a welcome one because generally, we’re sick of seeing it.

If we could, we’d pretend we were out, even if it meant hiding behind the settee. And if we do have to acknowledge its arrival, it certainly won’t be having a cup of tea in the best china.

Rain does have its uses, of course, mainly for watering things. I’m thinking things like plants, crops and the barbecue when you’ve just plopped the seasoned lamb kebabs on it.

But unless you’re a farmer, an avid gardener or a fish that lives in a shallow river, it’s likely you really wouldn’t mind if you didn’t see rain for months on end. Apparently, in years gone by, there were entire summers like that.

As if to sober us up from any fantasy that sunshine may still head our way, the calendar now tells us we’ve moved into the time of year when rain sets up home in our lives for the best part of six months. And it brings the full family of droplets.

We’ll get rain that drizzles, spits, showers and pours. There’ll be rain that comes down in buckets or like cats and dogs or arrives in a way which suggests the heavens have opened.

It means there’s opportunity aplenty to get drenched. The last three kinds of rain are your best bet because the soaking will be complete quite quickly.

To get drenched by spitting you’ll have to spend the full day in it, or just have a long conversation in a night club with that friend of yours who begins to shout and spray everyone when they’ve had a few drinks.

But back to the rain... rather than listen to weather forecasts, I’d recommend you look at the sky yourself and instinctively confirm you’ll be OK as you stroll past the proper coats and umbrellas on your way out.

A rumbling of thunder means rain is coming, or you’re really hungry, and as buckets of it begins to fall you can jump from side to side as if that will help.

If you have a hand or a newspaper you can put that over your head but when you finally give in you’ll be relieved and probably laugh aloud at your own stupidity.

To be truly drenched you have to have wet undies and any trousers must stick to your thighs in a way which means you have to roll them down and kick each leg off when they get to the bottom.

If only you’d taken a brolly. Or stayed in. But you can’t do that every day for the next six months can you?


Next week: The Art of Social Networking

EARLIEST, fullest Oldham news coverage in the Evening Chronicle — and online in the E-Chron (subscription required)