It was the best of times … it was the worst of times.
Yesterday morning dawned bright and clear, a perfect June day without a cloud in the sky. As I cycled into the station I could smell the cut grass and the honeysuckle in the hedgerows and for once, no-one tried to run me into the gutter going up the hill.
I arrived to the station with plenty of time to change and catch a leisurely train ride to work.
Yesterday afternoon it started to drizzle and I admit I got a little freckled with rain on the way home – not enough to need to wear my waterproofs or even change when I got home, but a soft refreshing addition to the ride.
This morning; well it was a touch damper – the waterproof came out of the bag and I cycled in haste to avoid the big drops from the trees.
Today it rained. and rained. and rained. and then it rained some more. It rained the sort of rain that you think must stop after a few minutes – there just can’t be that much water up there. And then it really rained. Tucked up in my corner of the office I only noticed that my small square of sky was a little grey and that the world outside seemed rather dark but scuttling to the station it didn’t seem too bad – a few large splashes on my blouse but nothing that the waterproofs wouldn’t protect me from.
Oh yee of too much faith.
When I arrived at the station it had gone from the rain that must stop to the rain that you fear will never stop. It was pouring in a torrential downpour type way.
My waterproofs gave up the ghost in the 20 seconds it took to bike from the station to the traffic lights (about 200 yards if that) and I could feel the cold clam as my underneath clothes started to stick. Peddaling home the surface water was frequently at the level of my pedals, with spray hitting me from one angle and still this incessant rain from the other.
Then it rained even harder. And then some.
As I arrived at the hill at the bottom of the village I realised that the village was now on the other side of a very large stream. Moreover said stream was flowing fast and downhill against me. It was wet and it was hard work. The final ignimony was when I had to stand on my pedals to get up the hill exposing the hitherto only remaining dry part of me to the elements.
I was met with a towel and directions to the kitchen and the mop bucket!
All this rain has been good for the plants though – as Caroline predicted my courgette has blossomed
Look, look look it’s a baby courgette. A real one. Which I grew. How exciting is that!
I have also done a little knitting and here we have the final piece o fthe puzzle – the collar to Peggy’s dress – now I’ve just got to go and assemble it!