Foiled

I decide to set off in the Mean Machine for some fish for dinner today - crayfish tails. It's a bit overcast, though muggy as ever. As I near the end of the road, I feel a prickle on my skin, as though its starting to rain. No sign of any drops on the shiny red of my scooter. Must be my imagination. Then I smell that earthy smell that comes with rain. At that point the heavens open. I look for shelter. All the trees & overhanging branches have been lobbed. I turn back for home.

So it is I'm now sitting, wet skirt spread out around me. A damp bum - the scooter seat got wet when I had to get off to unlock the garage door &, by the time I was able to sit again, the seat was running with water. My top is decidedly damp.

Still I'm telling myself my clothes will soon dry out in this heat. My skin is waterproof. I'm unlikely to catch a cold at this time of year. I'll soon dry out. In fact, after the last few days, it's actually rather pleasing to feel the coolness of the rain.

The fish will wait. I'm not prepared to try going again, even though the rain seems to have stopped once more. We'll go in the car this afternoon, probably on the way to the Pub. There we'll find out if Little B enjoyed his meal last night as much as he seemed to.