Well at last it does look as if summer is really here.
The garden centres are heaving, the DIY stores are going big on outdoor furniture again and pub gardens (including the grotty little yards that sometimes purport to be them) are packed with drinkers.
Cricket is in full swing and families fill the parks at weekends, which also means peace is regularly shattered by parents yelling threats at their youngsters - something that must be uniquely British since you never seem to hear continental mums and dads chastising the children so loudly and menacingly.
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Bicycles are made ready for the new season (unless you are an intrepid all-year round cyclist) and the canal and riverbanks are lined with fair-weather fishermen as opposed to those who dress like Scott of the Antarctic and spend every weekend of the year staring at open water.
Now the weather is warmer we all have plenty to do when we don't have to go to work. But let's spare a thought for a number of people across East Lancashire who, since last week, are having to cope with the reality of having an enormous void in their lives.
I'm referring to those councillors who lost their seats last Thursday night.
Before the jeers start I know their plight won't be uppermost in everybody's minds.
The rest of us, though, wouldn't dream of putting ourselves up for election.
But if you have spent a significant proportion of your waking hours for ten or even twenty years being stopped in the street by people wanting you to sort out all kinds of problems from bin collections to noisy neighbours, broken street lights, wrongly-sited bus stops and overgrown hedges, it must be hard when it suddenly stops.
No more long meetings several nights a week discussing the minutiae of municipal life, no more invitations to all kinds of functions where you are expected to come out with spontaneous words of wisdom.
Then there's the sense that those who asked you to take up roles like school governor are quietly trying to figure out how to replace you with as little embarrassment as possible.
Many will no doubt argue that anyone who has an ego big enough to be able to submit his or herself to the whole process of trying to persuade everyone in their neighbourhood to put a cross against their name must have the hide of a rhinoceros.
I'm not so sure.
Cynics will say they do it for the expenses but frankly there are far less time consuming ways of legally earning that sort of money.
Others will maintain that some councillors would have flags with coats or arms on their own cars and order us to salute them in the street if they could get away with it.
But don't the majority of councillors who lose their seats after many years of service (not self-service) deserve a sympathy vote?
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