Not just the odd shower, but an unrelenting barrage of water flooding the roads and footpaths, and testing even the sturdiest of footwear. I have had to endure leaky shoes, leaky boots, a sodden coat, an umbrella destroyed by gales, aqua-planing, and the ball-ache of having to drive at 1mph because of surface water.
The postman knocked on the door this morning to deliver a parcel. I opened it, only to be greeted with howling winds and driving rain.
"This country is shit," stated Mr Postie, proffering my parcel just as a droplet gathered on the end of his nose. I like my postman, I do - he never leaves me wondering.
But what really bugs me, is that despite the fact that the news has confirmed that this April has been the wettest since records began (100 years ago), the government are still implementing drought measures (like the hosepipe ban). What the blazes is going on there then? I have never been to a country where it rains more (except for Ireland and Wales), so what on earth is the government doing with all the bloody water? As always, ineptitude reigns supreme.
Anyway enough of that milarky. Once I get started, I won't stop.
Last weekend was a bit of a busy one. I had spoken to my cousin Jane during the week, and she had told me that she and her bloke (Martin) were moving house (again).
"You daft bat," I exclaimed, "that's the fourth time in three years."
"I know, I know. But I need a bigger kitchen," she said, before adding, "and I really don't know how we are going to move everything with just the two of us. Especially with my bad back, arthritis, wheat allergy, paper-cut, and cesarean section."
I started to suspect that she wanted me to volunteer some help.
And yep, because she is family, I found myself heading up to Loughborough last Saturday to help her and Martin move house.
I also took a few photographs, but not many because there was so much mayhem that I could never find my camera, but enough to give you an idea ........... here goes dahlink.
Pic.No.1 Ooh look! My bling machine parked outside of the house that Jane was moving OUT of. It was a three-storey townhouse in Darwin Crescent, Loughborough (look how grey and miserable the weather is)
Pic.No.2 Jane borrowed this van from her employers in order to facilitate the move. It had the fiddliest back door handles ever, and you had to knock it into first gear using a mallet
Pic.No.3 The old kitchen took ages to clear .... but we were nearly there in this photo (believe it or not!)
Pic.No.4 This was the living room half way through moving (we had just had a coffee-break. See those three red mugs?). I had to take Naughty George with me on the house move because there was no one to look after him in Oxford
But the whole dog / house-move thing didn't mix. Every time the front door opened, Naughty George made a dash for freedom. Which happened a lot considering we were continuously loading vans. The bloody git.
By the end of the day I wanted to nail him onto a doggy crucifix (but I didn't, obviously ...... because I didn't have nails small enough).
Pic.No.5 This was the new house in Anstey, shown with the van parked in the drive. Despite the rain, the house was really bright and airy inside. But because it was built in the 1970's, it only had one plug in each room. That's because in the olden days they only needed to plug in a wireless
I was a bit annoyed with myself actually; because they had done some lovely renovations, but I forgot to photograph them. What a joey. I promise I will get some pictures next time.
Suffice to say, that after all that effort, I finally made it back to civilisation (Oxford) following an 80 minute drive. And once back home, there were two things of note: (1) my back was aching like buggery after all that lifting; and (2) following all the rain and grey 'ooop north', I couldn't help but notice that the sun was shining in Oxford. Huzzar!
Marvellous, the hard work was over and ....... I had the evening to myself to chill out and recover ...... NOT.
The exact minute I laid on my sofa (in rural Oxfordshire, it is tradition that you can just walk into other people's houses without knocking), I heard the catch on the back door open, and in bowled Steve and Izzy.
"You lazy git," Steve shouted at me as he came into the house.
"Look Dad, Mama is lying on the sofa, doing nothing," Izzy added, pointing an inch away from my forehead, but looking at Steve.
I groaned and dragged myself up again ..... "have you guys eaten?" I asked wearily.
"Nope," chimed Izzy and Steve simultaneously.
"I'm not cooking, so we'll have to order a take-away," I said, trying to look weaker and tireder than I was (to get extra sympathy).
"HUZZAR," shouted Steve and Izzy, not noticing anything else at all.
Pic.No.6 And so I ordered the MOTHER of all pizza feasts ...... bring it on! (that is Steve on the left and Izzy on the right)
My whole kitchen table was filled with pizza-related products. It was sex in a cardboard box.
Anyway, enough of that ....... onto other business .......... I shall be attending the 'Cornbury Festival' this year - can you make it? Please let me know if you can, and we can meet up for a Bolly? MWAHH!
I shall also be attending the 'Charlbury Riverside Festival ....... Let's party ;-)
So dahlink ..... what have you been up to this weekend, you minx?! x