Wet wet wet

Got the picture? I actually think the rain went off a bit in the morning, or at least had a less enthusiastic few hours, but it drizzled all afternoon and poured all evening. It's still at it, and quite windy as well. When I got up I found the en-suite pleasantly warm because the central heating had come on at 7am and feeds the towel rail; it didn't stay on for the full time on the schedule but it was definitely A Sign. It's not summer any more, Dorothy ...

I got a lift to my painting class - my painting things are all in a canvas tote and I don't want them getting wet - driven by Himself. There was no sign of the builders; another phone call (we tried yesterday) brought no results. We can't use our front path or steps, having either to go out the back way and along the now very puddly lane or use our neighbour's garden, which we don't like having to do. I was the only pupil today, and took ages over deciding on shades for cobbles, recreating a golden-blossomed tree, and putting in the dramatic blue flower-pots that were part of this lovely garden in the middle of the old stone city of Matera. I've put a photo in extras, along with the peaceful view out of my teacher's newly-refurbished kitchen window; I love that back garden.

Once home, I started work on the family calendar, taking time to ensure that I'd got the right template this year; last year's was too small and people complained (as did I). Trouble is, I've always filled it with grandchildren, but as they get older they're less likely to submit to so many photos, and their fathers post fewer for me to nick, and too many of them are insufficient quality to print as well as I'd like. Anyway, I got engrossed and dinner was later than I'd meant it to be ...

We did, however, manage an hour or so dozing after dinner before getting ready for choir. Despite missing two singers this week, it was a good rehearsal, ironing out stuff and reacquainting ourselves with music we've not sung for over 10 years. We had both been drenched walking down the road to the church, dried off singing, and got soaked again going home along the dark and puddled lane. That's where my main photo comes from: I couldn't help laughing as two of our singers, with whom we'd been chatting on our way out, crossed the road and disappeared into the car park which has become ridiculously peopled by great clumps of pampas grass, swaying in the wind under the street lights. They walked up the stairs under the right hand street light and just ... vanished.

And that, O Best Beloved, is what I'm about to do now.