I’ve got a bone to pick with that wretched St Swithin. Having a name you can spell with an ‘i’ or a ‘u’ is bad enough, but what was he doing saying if it rained on July 15th then it would rain for 40 days? Now I know it’s only about three or four days later, but it has certainly rained and having had a look at the forecast we can look forward to plenty more this week. I know the garden needed it and that there were parts of the country with a hosepipe ban because water levels were so low, but enough already! I want the sunshine back. Or better still for the sake of the gardens and crops, I’d like sunny days and a good shower of rain overnight each day to keep everything growing nicely. If I can’t have a dry spell, could I just have it a bit less windy? For a start my Mistress needs to go round the back of the house and spray weedkiller on the nettles, but in this wind she would end up destroying half the garden and that is not the plan. She needs to get rid of the weeds so that the very nice window cleaner and oil delivery man don’t refuse to come round when we need them. They could quite rightly charge danger money the way it is now.
The build up to Megan’s arrival is getting underway. My Mistress has bought her bed. It is a rather lovely corduroy one with little paw prints on the bottom. The good news is that it will go through the washing machine and the tumble dryer so we can keep in nice and clean for her. My Mistress also bought one of my favourite chicken toys but I can’t have it until Megan arrives. It’s to make me feel special while she’s making a fuss of Megan. I think I understand the principle, I’m just not sure I sympathise with the sentiment.