The torrential rain and flooding that we are having is doing me no good at all. I am an irascible old trout at the best of times but having hands that are red and swollen and feel like I have just grabbed a bunch of stinging nettles makes me even more terse than usual.
By the time I have closed and locked the back door, shut the gate and opened the car door to take the girls to school at 7.30 am, the itching is already beginning to creep into the edges of my consciousness.
After emptying the dishwasher and putting the washing in the dryer, I was beginning to clench my jaw and thought I would sort out the linen cupboard for light relief, whilst listening to Woman's Hour on Radio 4. I discovered torture on two new levels. The first being the content of the Woman's Hour discussion on anorexia and the second being putting wool blankets and feather pillows into a blanket box - both a new torturous level of discomfort and irritation.
The outcome of this was a particularly scratchy email to a dear friend.
Please somebody, send me some sun or, at least, take the rain away.
Oh god - what happened on Woman's Hour? I am yet to listen to it...Am I going to hate it as much as you?! This rain must be terrible for you. I am so sorry. XXX
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