Bert is wondering when the rain will stop. It is playing havoc with his curly hair, and mine too to be honest. I'm enjoying all the greenness of everything though. I was walking by the stream the other morning in a dark green tunnel of trees and everything was saturated, dripping, soaked. I couldn't think what it reminded me of for a minute, then it came to me. It was just like being on holiday. I mean that in a good way, I'm not being sarcastic. But there is usually a day of rain, and that is exactly what it feels like when you have to go out in it because you're on holiday and you're Making The Most Of It.
Other than being slightly damp with mad hair, you find me in the grip of a book hangover. That is a thing apparently. I only heard the phrase a while back, but I immediately knew what it was. And now I have one. I finished an excellent book and now nothing else is good enough. Picture me running my finger along the bookshelf and sighing tragically. Tossing unread library books into an untidy pile on the sofa. Reading a few pages and flinging a book down in dramatic fashion. Sighing again. That's the trouble with good books, they spoil you for the one that follows.
The book in question was Jane Harper's The Lost Man.
I made myself a kind of pinboard/noticeboard thing the other day with some leftover fabric, leftover batting and a £1 canvas from the recycling centre. I am not sure that I like it, and other people are certain that they don't like it, but I am waiting to see if it grows on me. Perhaps once it is covered in things it will fade into the background and I won't be sat here wondering if I like it. I have tucked bookmarks and cards from indie writers in there to inspire me.
The littlest boy has had a long-awaited birthday. In fact he was away on a school trip at the time. I think he had a good day. When he came back I made him a Victoria sandwich, which is what he always likes to have on his birthday. It didn't last long. I should make them more often.
There was sadly no cricket this weekend, so people have been milling around at a loose end. The urchins are all into card games and magic tricks at the moment. Every time I turn round there is someone there saying Pick a card, any card, and then they try and impress me with their trickery. Some are less impressive than others.
Hope all is well with you and yours. Any fads and crazes at your end? Or book hangovers? Or overly-curled dogs? I hear the rain will end soon.