Wet

There's a Ray Bradbury short story set on Venus where it rains constantly, to dire effect on the mental state of anyone putting up with it. I thought of that today as the rain fell, just as forecast, either imperceptibly or torrentially, with occasional great gusts of wind to add to the effect. Even my insane drive towards fresh air and exercise dwindled to naught as I contemplated it, and in fact I only had one outing, and that really because of my pal Di ...

Di came in for coffee and revealed that she was going to take some jewellery in for repair and/or sizing. I have had my engagement ring and another favourite ring sitting on my dressing table for over a year since chilblains gave me a fright by blowing up my fingers (if you get me). Anyway, that turned into my outing - walking down to the jeweller's to sort out sizes and leave them to it. I walked back the slightly longer way, and that was all. I was drookit. 

Dinner in mid-afternoon and the customary dollop of Italian left me with nothing else to do but choir practice in the evening, resuming after a three week break. A lovely thing is that everyone was commenting on how much they'd looked forward to getting together to sing again, and it was a good rehearsal with some great sounds, even though two of us were missing: my partner first alto in Honduras and the second soprano in Taynuilt ...

Blipping the flooded road between our house and the church hall where we rehearse. There's a river running down the hill to the right, and that lake on the road despite the drainage provided by the hill. I'm just glad we're on the upper side of the road - I've never seen it as bad as this.

It's now a quarter past midnight and I'm wide awake, probably because I had a big slice of Christmas cake when we came in. Ah well.