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I don’t mind a drop of rain. Honestly, I don’t. I understand the crops and plants need the water. I need the stuff to drink, as do the chickens and other animals. But you can have too much of a good thing and I’ve had enough of it now.
It feels as though it’s been raining for ever here in Cornwall and I am fed up with getting soaked through every day. And it’s not just the wetness everywhere, it’s the mud too. It gets on the bottom of my long ears, along my tummy and into my tail. Then I have to sit through being rubbed dry with a rough towel or, worse still, being washed down under the outdoor tap.
I have a series of shelters on the site for when we have a really bad downpour – the yard, the barn, the workshop. If I’m really lucky and the laundry is in use, I can sneak in there for a quick warm from the heat of the machines. I get told off for leaving muddy footprints on the floor but it’s worth it.
I’ve discovered, however, that the best trick is to shelter under the hedge opposite the entrance to our cottage. As well as winding up the wagtails who nest there, I am in the eye-line of any human in the kitchen. If I look bedraggled enough, they take pity on me and let me in. I’ve tried this strategy outside the big house, where they’ve got a big AGA, and it works!
While I dry out by the fire, I dream of sunshine and warm days. I noticed the calendar changed today to the shortest month of the year so I’m looking forward to some brighter days ahead.