We have a small farm in the country which, among other pleasures, allows my other half to indulge in his handyman skills. And recently, he built a deck for us to savour the bliss of the outdoors. As the deck is north facing, we needed a little shade, but for the summer sun only as the winter sun is so warm and welcome. Solution? A good big umbrella!

So we shopped until we found an umbrella to beat all umbrellas. It was the perfect colour and enviably enormous, with a repertoire orf tilts and angles that would make a man proud. We read the instructions, carefully assembled the umbrella and filled the already-heavy base with water. Then with two able-bodied men we hauled it into position. With great excitement we launched it. And launch it did. Just like an aircraft in full flight! With the puff of  wind that accompanied its opening, it took off, up over the deck rails, then hesitated a little, and weighing almost as much as a jumbo, it crash-landed - thwack on the roses - somewhat mangled but undaunted. Because, damn it, whenever we've opened this monster since, it's off again!

So now we sit in the sun mostly, with the umbrella all folded up. And I know it's watching us! You see, I've tied it so it can't go anywhere and it flaps menacingly as I pass. And as I eye it sideways, just in case it breaks free, I wonder how I've become such a wimp that a piece of equipment can scare the daylights out of me. But scare me it does. So this is a message for you. Next time you're buying an umbrella, ask about its flight qualities and say it's not an aeroplane you're after, but just something to keep the sun off so you can enjoy your wine in peace.

Until next time,

Julia 

Have you got any ideas for how Julia can get around the 'flight' problem? Add your comments below.