High humidity

We’ve had the kind of fine rain which seems to be embedded in the low clouds. 

The kind of fine rain which coats my glasses inside and out, blowing in beneath the peak of my baseball cap and coat hood. I could see much more clearly without them.

The kind of rain which my UK family calls ‘high humidity’.

Happily the forecast deluge never appeared.

It was largely an indoors day: the morning in the kitchen; the afternoon by the potbelly stove in the study where I sank into “Dirty Little Secrets” by Jo Spain, while Bean alternated between unconsciousness and trying to clamber up onto my lap. Hmm…