So it is officially the end of summer and about time too. As I sit here in my soaking wet trousers, shoes and socks, shivering and snuffling and smelling of wet dog, I remember what an utterly wonderful summer it was. Oh sorry, no I am wrong. It rained . . . and rained again.
I do not mind a bit of rain as long as I am not in it, the sound of drops lashing on the window when lying in bed is one of the greatest sounds ever. However, it regularly rains between eight and nine in a morning – the time I am briskly walking through the centre of London on my way to work. Also, whenever I have ventured out of an evening it tends to pour down – ruining my hair, drenching my clothes and smudging my make up.
I am going away to the East Midlands this weekend and was looking forward to some lovely barmy evenings spent in a pub car park, surrounded by fag ends, watching the cars speeding on the M1 and trying to avoid the village idiot. This will not happen because the weather forecast is for torrential rain. Now there’s a surprise.
On the Nelson hi-fi today:
Enormous – Something In My Heart
4 Comments
I think wet dogs smell rather lovely.
You would. Does this mean you want to smell my wet trousers?
It is torrential rain up here Nelson. Sorry. I’m away to Bath though so I don’t care. Rasssssp.
Hey Jo, it rained and it rained and it rained some more.