Washout
I actually hate days like this. The morning was merely dull and damp, but by midday it was raining and by late afternoon very wet. Now it's getting windy, though there seems to be a lull right at this midnight moment - the forecast for the night and tomorrow is pretty foul. Normally it would have been redeemed somewhat by having a laugh at Pilates, but because we're going on holiday later this week and because we're a tad hypochondriac we both gave it a miss today, though we did call in to pay our fees. Trouble is with my class that the new venue is very cramped - I feel too close to other puffing bodies when we find that the Covid rate is rising again, and there's also a dire cold doing the rounds ...
I did take the free morning to go down to the chemist for a prescription and some new nail scissors (where on earth are my usual ones?) That's when I took the photo above - the first load of shed leaves to find its way into the space just inside our garden gate at the foot of the steps down from the garden. That turns into a sort of minestrone through which we'll squelch until the spring, I suspect - though this year we're having work done on the crumbling steps, so I think the builders my clear it. We're getting the gate refurbished too, you'll be glad to learn.
I spent a chunk of the afternoon looking at clothes, trying on a few things, trying to decide what to take for a week in weather that promises to be end-of-summer in Italy rather that onset-of-autumn here. It's always hard to think of short sleeves when you're covered in goosebumps. This activity made me so miserable that we went out in the gloaming for a mad wet walk round the block - it turned out to be exactly a mile - to give us an appetite for dinner. We needed it - but dinner was then late and so it's now coming up for 1am and I'm just about ready for bed.
I reckon the best laugh of the day maybe came from the Tory party...
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