If someone lived in the Antarctic they might just conceivably write a letter home and say "Guess what - it didn't snow today." A pretty remarkable achievement for that part of the world.
It didn't rain in London today. Just as amazing I'd say. I had so many things I couldn't do because it never stops raining that when we finally had a day without a five hour downpour, I didn't know what to do with myself. So I did them all.
After mowing the lawn, I trimmed all that Ivy my wife loves, which makes the garage look like a mossy hillock. Then I washed my motorbike. Then I washed my wife's car. Then I did the shopping. Then I cleaned the rear patio of all the dead and dismembered wildlife the cat has so graciously brought home over the past few days. Then I mucked out my daughter's horse because she was conveniently away for the weekend at her boyfriends house in Brighton.
I also did some painting, and tomorrow I'm going to do some writing. I get the idea I should get as much done as possible in the next few days. My computer's making some distinctly odd noises. I can't afford to buy another for the moment because my boiler's making some distinctly odder noises. And it's leaking.
I'm absolutely exhausted. Where's the rain when you need it?