Tuesday 18th November

I really hate this time of year.  When I was a child I couldn’t understand adults who said they dreaded the onset of Winter, there was all that snow to look forward to, and ice slides and frost and even in the Autumn there were conkers and running through a huge drift of fallen wet leaves to look forward to.  None of that excites me now, Autumn is a drudge that must be gotten through somehow, and the worst of it is how wet everything is.  Our garden is a quagmire, almost a mudbath and we cannot even begin to tidy it up.  Wet leaves almost cover the lawn, and we just cannot face it.  The roads have barely been dry on a couple of weeks, and I hate that, dodging puddles even when it stops raining.  The dogs don’t seem to mind it though, as I studiously avoid puddles that just wade through them oblivious it seems to the cold and wet.

And there seems no let-up in sight, the weather forecasters try to cheer us up by saying that it may be a bit warmer or occasional sunny spells which never seem to materialize.  And I feel wet through, the tube is ever more crowded and now wet umbrellas drip on one as well as soaking macs pushed in your face.  The pavements are soaking everywhere and you have to be careful of all the water on the shiny tile surfaces in the tube stations.  I must admit that on Thursday I only ventured out of the house once, to get some bread and milk.  It was lovely to be ensconced in the warm watching the raindrops on the window.  But today it is work again and here I am trying to dry out in a Pret and thinking about the walk to my work through the cold and the wet.