Wet Wet Wet

Henry was a little disconsolate as this was his first proper experience of rain, and he couldn’t understand how his new found freedom in the garden was being curtailed by mysteriously falling wet stuff. So he just sat and stared at it. Later he developed the technique of running between the house and his favoured sheltered spots and it even became something of a game. 

We were less bold and cancelled our planned trip to London when we saw the weather forecast. Spent the day working through The List. Everyone has a list. Some people say they don’t make them but they do. They can’t help it. Their list lurks in the corners of their mind and jumps out and scares them periodically. A written down one is much less frightening and you have the pleasure of crossing things off it with bold, dramatic strokes of the pen. 

Strider came over for supper in the evening. We retreated to The Shack and sank a few beers and talked about the big and interesting things as well as taking each other’s psychological temperature. It was good to catch up and know that he is happy. And he likes to check up on us, being a very caring bloke.

Today was also famous for the bugs in the broccoli incident, which put some people off their dinner. I carried on regardless. Also started watching The Perfect Couple which is a new Netflix series full of spoilt rich people and a murder at a wedding. Compelling. I know that because after a long day, lots of jobs, and a few beers I didn’t fall asleep. The simple measure of something that is three and a half stars or more. 

Not a bad day for wet one …