It never rains, but it pours

IF I don't do anything else today, I need to do one of two things ..... grow some webbed feet or build an Ark.

Just where is all this rain coming from?? My youngest son keeps telling me it's God leaving his tap running. Bless. But I think God is too green and environmentally friendly for any of that malarky.

I keep thinking that kayak my husband bought a few weeks ago will come in handy soon and we won't need to travel to Bala to launch it but as we live on a mound, that shouldn't be entirely necessary.

For the third time in as many weeks, my eldest son's sports day has been put on the back burner due to waterlogged school fields and each morning on my daily ride to work, I pass the same woman standing at the same bus stop under the same fuchsia pink brolly.

This woman has become a commuting landmark for me. In fact, I think I will quite miss her day-glo piece of rain tackle once the clouds clear. That said, I suppose we should be grateful for any droplets that fall from the sky. If we ever do get out to Oz to live, we'll be playing a whole new different ball game.

It'll be all buckets in the shower and butts in the garden (the water type not the posterior type!) for us over there. What we moan and whinge about so much over here is something that is welcomed with open arms Down Under.

As one of my news correspondents said to me today: "Thanks be flaming June is finished. If we can all survive the monsoons until the end of Wimbledon, the weather might remember it's supposed to be summer!"

Nicely summed up Sonia!