Yesterday the weather forecast reported humidity at 80-90%. I think I understand my lethargy now!
It gave me the perfect excuse to sit in Waitrose – in their air-conditioned café to be precise – and do some of my study. And sew up some more of my son’s jester.
It’s a laborious process but it is fun seeing the final toy come together, even if it doesn’t much resemble the picture.
In fact I spent most of the day sewing. Except for the short time when I walked the dog – choosing a route through waist-high grass so she wouldn’t get all muddy on our normal route.
Big mistake. Big. Huge.
I could smell something awful as we reached the end of our walk, and thought I must have trodden in something. But, oh no, it was the dog, who had rolled in fox poo.
And it lingers.
Thankfully I saw on one of the kids’ TV programmes that tomato ketchup is good for getting rid of the smell. Even though the dog managed to shake tomato ketchup all over me, it did seem to work on the stink. Thankfully. Although the phantom smell will linger in my nostrils for days.
Amazingly, despite a dismal forecast, the torrential rain stayed away for my son’s cricket training. The sun shone hot on the pretty little ground, while the ominous grey clouds circled around the edge and grumbled to themselves like cantankerous grannies.
Thankfully I don’t have children in the later classes though, as it began to pour at 7pm. And thunder too, I suspect, although I couldn’t hear it. But our dog, who hates thunder, paced around like a lost soul until bedtime.
It’s a shame, because the rain is a blessed relief. As the first few drops fell, a cold blast burst through the window like the bringer of joy.
It reminds me of my short stay in India. One of my housemates ridiculed me for going in August – the monsoon season – but I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.
Yes it was hot and sticky and yes the rain was torrential like I’d never seen before (but have seen plenty of since), but if I hadn’t gone I would never have truly understood the exhilaration of walking in a dress and sandals in a downpour, happy to be drenched to the skin.
The weather saved its finale for the bedtime hour. Sullen storm clouds still dyed the sky purple, and rain fell in buckets, but streaks of sun lit up the trees as if they glowed from within. And a double rainbow shone, as if to say, ‘hang in there, it won’t rain forever.’