Odd

 

Rain

The washing had been pegged out and then, as so often, the heavens opened, and the rain pelted down. Blithe claims that it would ‘just be another rinse for the washing’ died on my lips as the water level rose in the garden. It was a flash flood of Biblical proportions.  The laundry would be mud-streaked when the flood receded.

As ground turned to mud, sucking at my feet, I tried to return indoors.

It was going to be difficult, wading chest-high through the waters. I was beginning to panic . . .

 

 . . . and then I woke up!

Jellicoe surveys

 

Jellicoe surveys

The new arch is now in its final position, still looking fresh and untrammelled, as the plants destined to enfold it remain within their pots, anxious to get their feet into the ground and stretch out.

It has rained so much recently, that one thinks the skies must surely be empty by now, but no, the drops continue to drip or pour or lash down with depressing regularity. When there is an occasional lull in the downpour and even a hint of blue sky and sunshine, the cats like to stroll into the garden to check out their territory, sniff the flowers and indulge in a little ornithology.

Jellicoe was surprised to see the new structure and naturally had to examine it more closely. With three bounds he reached the top, stayed a short while to survey the world from his elevated position, then, curiosity satisfied, descended.

               Preparing to descend, but not yet completely committed

 It will be more interesting when it is covered with flowers and foliage and their attendant world of insects, beetles and spiders large and small. Then he, and Herschel, will be able to practise their catch and kill skills.

                                            No turning back!

Eventually – such a useful, all-encompassing word! – eventually, there will be two further arches, to replace the tatterdemalion edifices being supported by plants, rather than the more usual way round. 

‘Eventually’ refers to a circumstance that may be achieved at an indefinable point in the future, rather like our proposed replacement front door, about which discussions have been ongoing for some several years now.

                Whiskers to the fore and one paw ready for final touchdown

The site from which the new arch was sourced has been visited – online, of course! – but the arch bought from there is now no longer available. It won’t matter, once they’re clothed in vines!

Cricket

 

Ashes - the Fourth Test

Relaxing and watching cricket, although it’s raining at the moment. It has been very exciting . . .

It’s raining!

  It’s raining!

 

Rain falls, or hammers, or drizzles. It drips or drives, cuts or caresses, fills streams and brooks, curves paths in dust, carves puddles in earth. Rain is quiet – it hisses. Rain is noisy – it drums. Rain is silent but steady. Rain is all these things.

 Howling wind hurls all before it, raging through trees, whipping seas, destroying in its wrath.

Sobbing wind goads heavy clouds into reluctant motion across the heavens. Eye-scratching lightning, ear-splitting thunder, flashes and cracks – no birds to be seen.

No wind and the lead-grey sky looms sullenly, releasing a million tiny bombs hurtling earthwards, bouncing off the ground, tiny translucent space hoppers.

 

The plants, the trees, the grasses accommodate the rain, bowing under its relentless force, and straightening once the assault eases.

The pallid grasses, parched and dry, welcome the rain and grant their green in gratitude. Tired flowers lift their heads and trees open their leaves in thankfulness.

Rain, a benison. Too little and there is pain.

Rain, a curse. Too much and there is suffering.

Rain, heaven’s tears for an abused world.

Rain, heaven’s blessing for a sorrowing realm.

Rain – be thankful.

Rain

 

Rain

                        Jellicoe having a leisurely wash this morning

We had a heavy downpour of rain last evening, much needed and welcomed. Half an inch fell in about half an hour. Unfortunately, Jellicoe and Herschel were outside and the patio door was shut. Barry opened it as soon as he realised and Jellicoe hurtled in as though the hounds of hell were pursuing him.

Herschel  this morning

Attaining a perch on top of the dog crate, he proceeded to yell at Barry – loud, prolonged vocalisations clearly indicating that he blamed Barry for the horrible wet stuff he had endured. He was very cross and we understood what he was saying; ‘How dare you subject me to this misery? Why was the door closed? You know I need access at all times.’

                                                Morning yawn

Having made his point very plainly, he proceeded to wash. Then Herschel galloped in, wide-eyed and wet. He is a wise cat and knew that Barry was not to blame, but, even so, he was not happy. Then he, too, began to wash.

                                        It could be love . . .

Our cats are careful groomers. They do not overgroom, but do just enough to keep themselves tidy. They also groom Roxy and Gilbert, paying particular attention to their heads. 

                                    This could be love, too . . . 

Roxy is calm and patient, enjoying the attention and asking for more by gently pushing her head towards whichever cat is washing her. Gilbert can become overexcited and try to turn the grooming session into a game. The cats do not appreciate him grabbing their legs or heads but do not retaliate.

       Gilbert brings a toy but Herschel doesn't want to play

        They simply yowl at him and he's a good boy and desists eventually

 

     Relaxing

                                                                Also relaxing

Dear Diary . . .

Every year since 2006 I have bought an RHS (Royal Horticultural Society) Diary. I’m not a great diarist but I love the illustrations in the diaries – flower paintings of great delicacy. I also have an RHS Address book to replace the battered one I have had for many years.

Last year both Barry and I started writing daily journals. His is full of references to world affairs, causes of conflict, esoteric measurements and abstruse comments. Mine is far more mundane – the weather, family affairs, the animals, comments on books I’ve read and those I’m attempting to write, what I prepared for supper . . . on that latter point it’s rather worrying that, despite all the wonderful cookery books I have been given, my culinary ‘arts’ do not spread further than roast beef, spaghetti carbonara, curry, casserole and trout.

Bethan’s fiancé told me I was a good cook – I assured him that he’s simply been lucky thus far to have been offered edible fare. On that note, by the end of the year they will be married or so we are assured. No date yet – but I’m sure they’ll let us know in good time. (Thinks: how long does it take to lose four stone, acquire grace and elegance and develop witty repartee for clever discourse with wedding guests?)

Also last year I started another collection – or rather, Barry initiated one for me. Fountain pens! How many pens does one person need? That’s rather a different question to ‘How many pens does one person covet?’ I have some beautiful pens now and naturally Barry insisted that I have some suitable journals in which to record my deathless prose. We both started with Moleskine but the ink bled through so now we have Rhodia. Even a shopping list is a work of art on good paper, not that I would defile my journals with anything so mundane.

As with all things there is an interesting subculture concerning pens, nibs, inks, papers – some people devote their careers to determining the very best but it’s all subjective in the end.

My diary entry today will undoubtedly make reference to the walk I shall take with the dogs shortly. It is pouring with rain and already, at 2:00 pm, quite dark. Nonetheless, we shall enjoy our outing. Barry is in bed nursing a cold so will miss the pleasure of sloshing through puddles and skidding on mud. When we return I will endeavour to deter damp dogs from rushing up to share the warmth of our bed with him.  Maybe the sun will shine tomorrowJ

Bertie and the rain

Young puppies need to be taken outside at regular intervals to relieve themselves. Small bodies can’t store very much and when they have to be emptied they must be accommodated promptly.  

A few days ago, in the middle of the night, though that’s a contradiction, I took Bertie out in pouring rain, under an umbrella, and he was quick to discharge his load and hop back indoors out of the wet.

We’ve had a lot of rain recently but on Tuesday it was coming down like stair-rods. I’ve always thought that a strange expression since stair-rods are placed horizontally and rain falls vertically – usually! Anyway, it was raining extremely heavily and despite a large umbrella covering us, Bertie didn’t want to stray away from its shelter or my feet. 

He was not a happy boy! 

It was, after all, not his choice to go out at that time. We thought he *should* go out!

Humans don’t always know what’s best for puppies!

It is funny how dogs that are bred for the great outdoors dislike going out in the rain when they’re at home, yet when they’re out they can’t keep away from water. Frodo, our Dalmatian, makes a beeline for ponds when we’re walking, being beaten to them only narrowly by our Labradors. 

Bouncing rain!

We’ve just had another downpour of bouncing rain, lasting a few minutes and followed by brightening skies and finally bright sun. 

Our already soggy garden will soon be a swamp! 

The fish in the pond will appreciate the freshly oxygenated water and we will enjoy the feel and smell of the clean air.

Succinctly Yours Week 14

Grandma's Goulash at Succinctly Yours Succinctly Yourshosts this microfiction meme. 

Each week she posts a photographic prompt for inspiration and the challenge is to write a story using no more than 140 characters or words.

Below is this week's photo followed by my offering.

It was a tribute to the police that the traffic was able to keep moving on that wet and windy day and that there were no accidents.

(131 characters and very lame!)

SkyWatch Friday Season 4 Episode 44 False threats

The clouds promised rain but in the event only a few drops fell, they fled and blue sky returned.

Thanks go to the SkyWatch Friday team who organise and host this weekly meme. If you would like to see more skies around the globe just click here.

SkyWatch Friday Season 4 Episode 37

This afternoon the sky became very dark, the clouds ominous and there was thunder, lightning, hail and then heavy rain. I took the photographs from inside the conservatory.

It was nothing in comparison to what Perth, Australia, experienced earlier this week!

I wish I could paint as well as Nature  . . .

The garden is flooded -again! but hey! the clocks go forward on Sunday so the weather should become more reliable then - shouldn't it?

Thank you to the SkyWatch team for their dedication to this meme. Why not look at other skies from around the world? Just click here.

Haiku Friday

Raindrops are falling,
Dripping on the wooden floor -
Must mend the ceiling!

Conservatory -
Roof made of transparent tiles
To give us great light.

Cats love it in there
Soaking up the intense heat,
Limp like empty gloves.

Click here for more Friday Haiku

Saint Swithun’s Day

Today, July 15^th, is Saint Swithun's Day.

Saint Swithun (sometimes Swithin) died in July 862 and was an early Bishop of Winchester. He is now chiefly remembered for the following weather lore:

St Swithun's day if thou dost rain

For forty days it will remain

St Swithun's day if thou be fair

For forty days 'twill rain na mair.

Swithun was buried out of doors rather than in Winchester Cathedral so that 'the sweet rain from heaven may fall upon my grave.' He is considered to be one of the saints to pray to in times of drought. 109 years later in 971, it was decided to move his body to an indoor shrine but the ceremony was delayed by forty days of torrential rain; this was taken as a sign of Swithun's displeasure at being moved.

It has rained several times today, between bouts of sunshine. At times it has drizzled, at others it has poured so I suppose we should expect the next six weeks or so to be fairly damp. Rain would have helped in the forest last week. It would appear that a fire was set, destroying young evergreen and deciduous trees.

Several fire appliances attended and the blaze was brought under control.

The area will recover . . .

. . . though there are no fresh green shoots yet.