This is common expression here in Hungary, and if there is any truth in it, then this little landlocked country has been experiencing the Midas touch and will soon become the richest country on the planet.
It has rained nearly every day here for the past month. I can literally count the number of sunny days in May on one hand. Though I do not normally grumble about the weather, my bucket is nearly full, so to speak. The gloomy overcast sky is one thing, but the now seemingly perpetual precipitation has gone beyond being a minor inconvenience to being a major nuisance.
For example, the rain prevented me from cutting the grass (actually weeds and wildflowers) for nearly three weeks. When I finally had the chance to wheel the old lawnmower out, I was confronted by thirty-centimeter high vegetation. It took me nearly three hours to mow the lawn (more like a varied association of stinging nettles, dandelions, bindweed, couch, green alkanet, poppies, and an assortment of other weeds and flowers I am unfamiliar with). To put the experience into perspective, it usually takes me an hour to cut the grass. However, cutting the grass last week was akin to carving a pioneer trail through the virgin Canadian wilderness armed with nothing but a dull plastic spatula.
The weather we have been experiencing here lately has reminded me of the weather I experienced when I lived in Morpeth, England in 2014 – 2015. Strange as it sounds, the wet weather and overcast skies did not bother me when I lived in England, but they are driving me crazy over here in Hungary. In light of this, I beg those living in the United Kingdom to call their weather back to heel and summon it back across the English Channel where it belongs, far from the eastern periphery of Mitteleuropa, which should have been basking in sunshine weeks ago.