It's been bloody pouring here all day, and with two large dogs in the house someone just HAS to go out in it.
I quite like looking at rain, and I certainly like hearing rain, but getting wet in it has never held any appeal.
Today was the day for a tiny nearby village's annual 'Chestnut Fair', but I imagine it was a washout; WE certainly didn't go. I always feel sorry for the organisers of such events; as, after all their hard work, no-one turns up.
So, what to do on such days as these? Well I suggest that tradition has the answer. Comfy slippers, blazing fire, dogs curled up by the hearth, the sweet smell of teatime Welsh Cakes emanating from the kitchen, maybe a snooze amongst the sofa's deep down-filled cushions, that'll do for a start.
And it's no use you two whimpering like that, WE'RE NOT GOING OUT!
Oh, all right then; but if I get pneumonia......