Good afternoon my little puddleducks!
And what a dreadfully gray and rainy one it is! Here in the Wigwam the lights are on to enable my poor old eyes to see the keyboard and I'm garbed in variously coloured and modely mismatched clothing whilst the ones I wore a few minutes ago hang in forlorn dampness over radiators and fume and steam in a fit of vapours . . .
I met the Old Duchess in town and we dined, comme d'habitude chez Nero, before spending a while or two perusing Per Una and other sources of joy until finally I plonked her on the omnibus back to the stately pile, loaded with jollies and a chicken seeded roll for afternoon tea . . . talking of which I can feel a green one coming on . . . actually, I am lying outrageously; I'm going to have a lemon detox instead - the good Dr T refers to this as "mown hay" and I can see her point but I still lust for it's peculiarly bucolic gustation! Back in a mo, once the kettle's whistled!
Well, the mo in question was rather longer than I expected due to phone calls etc but here I am again and the afternoon has become even more gray and rainy . . . tut! Sally Dog is not in the happiest of moods as she is missing her walk . . . now before I am met with a torrent of words more stingy than a hoard of rampaging wasplets, I would like to point out that it is herself who refuses to venture out during outbreaks of precipitation . . . nonetheless she is currently lying on the bed with a very hang-dog, and so appropriate, expression on her chops and, as I type, I can feel the recrimination boring into the back of my neck . . . she is cruel to her loving father; how sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child or, in this case, hound!
Some time later and the evening has come and drizzled slowly into night; in order to prevent you from losing sleep over that most unfortunate of creatures I can reveal that we managed two walks eventually - though on the last one some of us got wet and weren't very pleased. In a dogs world the pack-leader is everything; but with the power comes the responsibility and - in Sally's big brown ones at least - that extends to controlling the weather! We crossed the bridge in darkness and below us the river was roaring and pounding. It was nearly up to the 9 feet measurement mark which, for our dear little Asland, is quite some achievement . . . and as the rain continues to fall it will, one supposes, continue to rise . . . hmmm! Quite relieved I'm in the penthouse suite! I wonder if this could be the "once in a thousand year event" they are building the dam upstream to contain? If so, too little too late, people!
I'm sure the rain will continue into tomorrow as I'm track trundling over to see my super Chris around lunchtime and then down the road a spell to Ivyland and the joys of education for the messes until the eve is passed; thinking of that has made me realise just how snoozy I am and so I will take my leave of not only my senses (in a quite literal sense during sleep) but also of you my dear sweet ever-returning angels! I hope your days are filled with sunshine, even through the rain, for from this are rainbows born - very poetic; I should get a job with Hallmark !
'til next time
Be Seeing You !
*" . . . bouncing off the noses of the people from the train; a flock of salty ears sparkled in the traffic lights, feet squelched soggy leaves across the grain . . . I took my love to Clifton in the rain" Clifton in the Rain, Al Stewart