Rain
It’s raining. Whiiiiiiine. It held off long enough this morning that I managed to hurtle everyone, including myself of course, extra hard, against the forecasted likelihood that by afternoon we’d...
View ArticleA Day Almost Entirely without Incident
. . . except for Hurricane Aethelstan throwing himself around out there tonight, stomping and shouting, him and his chums, all of whom have loud voices and big feet.* You know there was actual...
View ArticleMore moaning
It’s raining again. Pav is, of course, still in season. Darkness is driving me bonkers. Three is not the charm. Diane in MN Darkness is seriously lovelorn. Aaaaaaaaand has stopped eating altogether....
View ArticleValentine’s Day prospects
In theory I’m supposed to be Street Pastoring tomorrow but . . . I doubt it. Increasing amounts of Hampshire are under water and we’re due to have not only more torrential rain tomorrow but possibly...
View ArticleAnd with the storm winds howling, continued
Morale is not high. I won’t say it’s at an all time low but it is not high. I am not, as you will have surmised, Street Pastoring tonight; I’ve been obsessively following Hampshire weather reports...
View ArticleRain. How unusual.
Hellhounds and I took a turn by Soggy Bottom today to see how it’s, um, flowing . . . and the personhole covers over the storm drains have been shoved off by the pressure of the water driving up...
View ArticleClik here to view.
The Annual Bluebell Post
You thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you? Anyone who lives in bluebell country, however, can tell you that it’s pretty difficult to miss bluebell season—if your bluebells are happy they spread...
View ArticleAnother frelling Bank Holiday weekend
It rained in torrents the last two days* and then today, when it was supposed to rain in more torrents, it cleared off and was gorgeous—and everything green** and rooty that had sucked up lake-sized...
View ArticleTired hellterror. Look fast, the effect doesn’t last.
Yesterday was a veeeeeeeery bad ME day and while I did go bell ringing at Crabbiton in the evening it was chiefly because the tower captain is a trifle fierce and has extracted promises out of her...
View ArticleMissed photo ops and other critter interactions
So my pale blue and white floral cotton jeans are in the washing machine. Today I’m wearing a pair of pale khaki light cotton jeans. Why do clothing manufacturers seem to think that small children...
View ArticleAfter
I can’t get my head around the widow thing. I’m what? Peter’s what? No, no, no, it’s a bad dream. It’s a shit-sucking multi-tentacled toxic-spiked nightmare. At heart level I know he’s gone gone...
View ArticleTwenty-six July Twenty Sixteen********************************
Today is the twenty-fifth anniversary of the famous day when I picked up that slightly-known-by-me, undeniably mad but equally undeniably fabulously talented British writer Peter Dickinson, at the...
View ArticleThe Return of Wolfgang
This should have gone up last night, of course—one rarely ransoms cars from garages on Sundays—and today got away from me as my days so often do. I should perhaps adopt an acronym: TSHGULNOC, which...
View Article
