Rain rain rain

I was on the point of going to the supermarket when it suddenly started to thunder and pour: the sort of weather that we don't normally get in Scotland. We get rain, yes, but usually soft damp mists of it or random slashes driven by the wind, not these cataracts thumping down in straight lines from the clouds.

Sirius Cat was in the living room with me and was very disturbed by all the bangs and flashes. Somehow the idea of going in the car lost its appeal. "Appeal" - going to the supermarket? Though in fact I should be very grateful that I can do so: go and buy food any time, unlike those poor refugees in Africa.

So I watched the rain. It doesn't look as impressive in the photos as it looked in reality. The rain flooded the flowerbed a few feet from me, threatening to overflow and - surely it couldn't come into the house? See how it's level with the path; the bed is several inches below it, normally.


I was worried about Cassie, who was nowhere to be seen, so I called for her at the front and the back doors; no sign. Then I went back into the living room and she suddenly shot out from behind the sofa and bolted for Daughter 2's room.

There's the rain bouncing on the road, with a mysterious UFO hovering in the driveway. The rain must be the Martians' fault, then...

Both cats are now beneath Daughter 2's bed. The Martians won't get you there, fluffy ones.

And now the sky is brightening so I suppose I have no excuse not to go and gather some supplies for us and my mother. (No one has come to view her flat for over two weeks. Deep gloom. Curses on those bankers.)