This is the weather the Shepherd shuns ---

My sister reminded me of a poem by Thomas Hardy that we learnt in junior school and here it is

This is the weather the cuckoo likes
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes
And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best
And they sit outside at 'The Traveller's Rest',
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest
And citizens dream of the south and west,
And so do I.

This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
And thresh and ply;
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
And so do I.

It's been that sort of a day sun showers, blue sky and grey clouds. And I had 18 people for tea and the Louth Male Voice Choir and the Dutch Albatross Choir sang in St James' Church and the audience numbered about 500 and I didn't get round to doing my blip until now and it's 1.30 am!!
And tomorrow is another day of action. Whew!