Rain drops on noses

It rained yesterday. And by rain I mean huge fat drops that poured out of the sky in herds. There was an incredible amount of water. At one point my back garden couldn’t cope anymore, so it filled up with water, creating a rather lovely water feature in which I could’ve thrown some trout. I didn’t, though, but only because I didn’t have any trout lying around. Otherwise I would have.

The Pond and I had a marvellous day in the kitchen while the rain pelted onto the tin roof. There was a vague sound on the ceiling above the stove (which leads up, I think, to the chimney), it was kind of like the sound big drops of water falling onto ceiling-type material would make. Myself, I decided it was some small animal hopping on one foot in a Small Animal Rain Ritual. They happen often you know, those rituals. Lucky it was one of those too, as it means that I don’t have to worry about leaks, insurance and such.

At about five o’clock there was a gap in the clouds, so we took an amble to the pub down the road for a drink. It has wonderful big windows which allowed us a good view of outside. As we arrived, the heavens opened. And they didn’t close again.

A little while later we realised that we had a choice to make – to sleep overnight in the pub, or brave the rain. We, surprisingly, chose the latter, after discussing the (dis) comfort of having to sleep on a wooden table. Even using our mittens and hats as pillows, the prospect did not appeal.

So we hurtled through the rain at first and then realised how lovely it actually was, so we slowed down and turned our heads to the sky, sticking our tongues out and letting the fat, sweet bulbs of water land on them. I haven’t done that for years. We giggled like children and got home, drenched and happy.

Oh, and did I tell you? I might’ve mentioned it (Once? Twice? A gazillion times?) The babies are coming! This Friday! I am leaving on Wednesday for The Big Smoke. Is it possible to get more excited?