It’s a time-honoured Brit tradition that any good conversation has to start with the weather. My blog is no exception.

Sorry. I know it sounds a bit Alan Titchmarsh to devote an entire five minutes of your time to a slight change in the weather, but spring is A Good Thing. Especially if you’re like me, when a week of wintry weather has you sneezing like you’re getting commission for it, going gradually insane with insomnia, and just generally moaning because it goes dark every afternoon at 4pm.

Personally, I find Alan’s annual spiel about the blossoming of a single daffodil somewhere in Stoke a bit irritating, but even that’s not as depressing as a series he once did for the BBC aptly called Summer. Some of you may have even seen it.

For those who haven’t, it’s a perfectly nauseating blend of his dulcet narration, and millions of halcyon clips of children eating ice creams in Blackpool and Cure fans going surfing in Cornwall. Naturally, the BBC chose to show it in December. A time when most people were unaware of the sun’s existence.

It’s been like that for the last five months, so naturally the first time the clocks go forward and the temperature exceeds five degrees, I enter a state of euphoria which ecstasy, crystal meths and LSD combined would probably struggle to top. All because it’s a bit sunny.

Obviously warm weather has its drawbacks. Sweat. Wasps. Fat girls who think it’s okay to waltz around White Rose Centre in boob tubes. Luckily, such horrors are confined to only the hottest parts of summer, and right now you can take advantage of the still spring evenings by strolling down the seafront without chavs spitting on your hair.

Spring is much better. A time when drunks can return to beer gardens, men with midlife crises can lower the tops on their MGBs, and presenters of gardening programmes on the BBC can look forward to another season of boring us solid. I decided to mark the occasion by doing something I rarely do. Going outside.

So I apologise to all of you who might have seen the spiky haired reporter lapping it up by the beach the other day, donning the shades while astride a Raleigh Chopper. I’m sorry, it was me.

It’s spring and I got a bit carried away.

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