Did the day start off all right weatherwise? I ask myself the question because it seems such a long time ago. Yes it did. I remember now. It was the sun shining through the mollicroft window that woke me. Looking out I could see that grey skies were looming. So decided to take a quick walk to the village with Sadie the German Shepherd, before the heavens opened.
Didn't quite go as planned though. Halfway across the potato field footpath it began to rain. Shall I turn back? No! It will stop soon. My decision making skills were in short supply today. I carried on. It began to pour. By the time I had reached the other side of the field, the footpath was a quagmire and I, wearing just a jumper and jeans was soaked through.
At this stage I decided to turn back. Another wrong decision. After just a few yards my boots were heavy with clinging mud, and just got heavier and heavier as I plodded homeward. I should have walked home on the pavement.
The torrential downpour beating on my head and the fact that I do not have windscreen wipers on my glasses, made me keep my head down. Which is the reason I did not see that Sadie had come to a halt on the path. Which is the reason I fell over her. Which is the reason I ended face down in a bunch of angry stinging nettles, and one of my outstretched arms was up to the elbow in a muddy waterlogged rabbit burrow. Of course it was the arm on which I was wearing my newly repaired watch that ended up in the hole. Not to worry. I never really liked that watch anyway.
With a good supply of the potato field attached to my boots I managed to drag myself home. This wagon of mine does not have the luxury of a porch where I could get out of my wet clothing, and being reluctant to make a mess indoors I removed my muddy boots and sodden clothes outside my door.
Unfortunately in my haste to divest myself of the wet garments I had forgotten that my door key was hanging in the tractor shed, at the other side of the paddock. I make a naked dash across the grass to retrieve it. The key is not there. I am cold , wet, naked and miserable. It is an effort to think straight. Where is my key. Suddenly I remember. It must be in the pocket of my jeans. Which are now in a wet heap outside the wagon door. I hurry back to the wagon.
Have you ever tried to get a key out of the pocket of a wet pair of jeans? It is very difficult. Especially if you are naked in the pouring rain, with cold hands and bursting to have a pee, and with the added distraction of an excited, and wet German Shepherd dog, thinking that all the naked to and fro rigmorale is some bizarre game you have just invented.
Can you imagine what it must have looked like, a naked wet and shivering man well past his prime, scampering about in a field with his dog? Can you imagine it? Of course you can. I have just painted a picture in your head. I do apologise. It must be horrendous for you. Let me move swiftly on.
Indoors at last, I find the floor is awash. There is a leak in the wagon roof. I feel justified in letting rip with a few choice phrases of the kind you are unlikely to hear in Church. Swiftly I grab a pile of old newspapers and spread them over the floor to soak up the water. While this is going on I am giving myself a vigorous rub down with a towel trying to get the circulation back into my frozen limbs.
Dry clothes and a good deal of mopping up later. I sit down with a nice hot cup of tea and a toasted bacon sandwich.
Oh look! The sun is out again. The sky is clearing. Why the hell didn't I wait? Flaming June? Flaming bloody joke. That's what it is.
Apart from all that nonsense it was not a bad day. I made some money by painting this portrait of a border collie. I thought you might like to see it.
I did my good deed for the day by rescuing a frightened green woodpecker from an equally frightened woman's kitchen. No, I'm afraid I don't know why it flew into her kitchen. But it was marvelous to hold such a bird in my hands for a few seconds. I just wish I had my camera with me. Not just to show you the woodpecker, but the woman screaming. She is frightened of birds. A fairly common phobia I believe.
This evening I went to listen to a local band called 'The Feel'. Excellent noise. But best of all they were supported by my favourite duo 'Jon and Robbie' a fantastic guitarist and a lovely girl with a beautiful voice.
After that I came back to my still damp home and began to write this blog. Guess what happened? Halfway through, the broadband failed. After many fruitless attempts to restart it, consisting of swear words, telephone calls to robots, and pressing unresponsive buttons, I gave up and read some of Dickens, Mr Pickwick. After an hour or so the broadband came back and here I am. It is three thirty a.m. I ought to be in bed.
I wonder what the weather will be like today. If it looks like it might rain. I will not be going out for a walk. Besides, my boots are still wet.