Rain dance

It's been dry. Even warm and sunny. Time to get the hose out and water the veggies under blue skies.

Of course most of the time the air is loaded with moisture. When some of this moisture spots a hose pipe it rapidly texts, tweets, FBs and all the rest to tell all its mates that there's a water party going on in Simmys veg patch. They probably have a pirate radio station too - announcing the latest info on where the next rain dance will be.

So within minutes of starting to water the garden, grey - nay black - clouds gather and rumble their ways towards you. So menacing are these portents that the only wise course of action is to pack up the hose and retreat to the cottage for a cuppa.

"False alarm" "Party's cancelled" - texts and tweets across the cloudosphere. And the clouds dissipate. And still the garden needs watering.

Today we expect to sign a contract with a builder to get work started on the house. This is so jaw-dropping that I need a dentist.