Not Amused

He is not amused. There are no crumbs to be had, the Café is not yet open and to make matters worse it’s raining again. He and I both suffering together as we wait.

It has been a day of sunshine and showers, mainly showers and some very heavy ones. The ground is awash and all the paths elongated puddles. Chaucer’s ‘droughte of March’ has not happened this year and I hope his ‘Aprill with its shoures soote’ will not come to fruition either. The rivers and reservoirs must be filled to overflowing.

Finally as I write this, the sun has appeared, drying the patio, adding sparkle to the Meadows and completely changing my mood.