It’s an unseasonally warm day here on the south east coast. I left the house this morning in boots, a hooded jacket and a warm coat, wishing I’d thought to find my woolly hat. By lunchtime I was carrying my coat over my arm, jacket unzipped, and wondering whether I might need to find my sunglasses instead.
I’m more aware of the weather these days, because I’m outside in it every morning, walking the dog. We’ve walked through thick fog, in depressing drizzle, in bright sunshine and on dull grey days. If it’s been raining lately, I make sure I wear boots instead of my thin-soled pumps, and if it’s really hot I carry water for both of us.
Nevertheless, the weather is more of a footnote to my day than a major issue. Even really bad weather isn’t often life-threatening here. A typical British drought means brown lawns and unwashed cars, and most British storms just damage trees and distrupt broadband connections. When it’s really cold outside, I make cups of tea and huddle over them for warmth, or warm myself up with a hot bath. On hot summer days I freeze diluted fruit squash to make home-made ice lollies, and take a lukewarm shower to cool down.
Water is so mundane and everyday, but it’s critically important. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that when we can so easily turn on a tap and get clean, safe drinking water. I first began supporting WaterAid at the height of the Ebola crisis, because I suddenly realised how essential it must be to be able to properly wash when you’re caring for someone with such an infectious virus. I couldn’t invent a vaccine or manufacture cheap diagnostic tests, but I could help people to wash their hands. Continue reading