WEATHER — it’s our country’s favourite topic of conversation.

And yet we cope absolutely terribly with it.

How often are you stuck for something to say with a stranger - or even an acquaintance you simply don’t know that well — and the fall back small talk is always what the weather is doing.

In summer we can all be heard loudly proclaiming about how it’s too cold/wet/hot/dry, the list is fairly endless in this particular season.

And the predications made by weather men and women become all important.

Oh, how we all mocked this fine group of people when they declared 2011 would be a barbecue summer, only for it to rain incessantly for the entirety of June, July and August.

And let’s not forget Michael Fish. A weather forecaster with a long and illustrious career who will forever only be remembered for one thing — the fact he reassured us all the great storms of 1987 would never happen.

And in winter all we talk about is how cold it is, how snow is coming/hasn’t come/will be coming, flooding and frozen landscapes.

And here in good old Blighty, these are not unusual conditions.

They are the same every year.

And yet each and every year we fail spectacularly to not only cope with it but to prepare for it at all.

My heart went out to those poor folk — thousands of them — who were left without power over Christmas because of the terrible storms that battered our little island at the end of December.

But those organisations responsible for gas, electricity and water were completely hopeless at getting people connected again quickly.

It seemed as if they had absolutely no emergency plan in place.

And the misery is continuing across the country as we are battered by storms, wind and seemingly endless rain.

We all know as soon as the snow hits, many roads will become utterly impassable, the trains will stop, planes will be grounded and trams will cease to run.

I have family in Canada, where temperatures regularly drop well below minus 10C.

Does this stop the good people over there going about their daily business?

Does it heck.

My aunt and uncle (both in their mid-60s) are preparing this month to drive their eight-year-old grandson to a junior hockey tournament in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

This is an eight hour drive.

They don’t motor around in a snow plough — oh no, they just have a normal car. And have they batted an eyelid — no.

So, while I love the fact our national obsession with the weather means we’ll never be stuck for conversation — I just wish it meant we could be a little better equipped (and more importantly) supported by those who provide our power, water and transport services to deal with it.