Just walkin' in the rain...

As we watched the weather forecast on Sunday evening between the marshmallow toasting and three more episodes of Breaking Bad (I'll speak about this at another time) my heart sank.  Heavy rain and strong winds were due to make an appearance on Sunday night, and would be hanging around until at least Monday night. 

Oh goody.

Now that son number two is in gainful employment, there was no chance I could delegate the early morning walk to him yesterday, and the husband was due at Mrs S's house to sort her plumbing out, which just left me to do it.  Having straight hair, which really likes to be frizzy, I try and avoid moisture wherever possible.  When I started straightening my hair, I did try and tell everyone that I was no longer able to use the steam iron or do the washing up, such was my hair's sensitivity to any sort of damp, and even fog may keep me in doors.  The husband, ever thoughtful as to my vanity, will often walk the fuzzballs if it's raining, just not yesterday.  As I piled on a hat, scarf, gloves, coat and wellies, he smirked at me....yes, you read right, he smirked, accompanying it with, 'Off you go, mad dog lady.  See you later'.  Nice. 

So out we went into the roaring maelstrom.  By the time I had dragged the dogs to the first corner (they like the rain just as much as I do), the dogs were wet and p*ssed off, and I was beginning to question the decision of wearing a woollen hat, as it was taking on water at quite some speed, making vision tricky to say the least as the weight of it caused the hat to slowly droop over one eye. 

We neared the second corner, and it was here that I became aware of the wet strip of jeans between the top of my wellies, and the bottom of my coat.  This is what happens when you walk in horizontal rain and also explains why my hurriedly applied mascara was heading south, giving me the appearance of an army recruit on manoeuvres, somewhere in the Brecon Beacons.

We managed about 22 minutes before I gave in and came home.  I had left a towel to dry the dogs off, but to be honest, by the time I had dried myself off, any rubbing down of them would just make them wetter.  I peeled off my coat, hat, scarf and wellies, leaving them in the middle of the kitchen floor in a limp puddle, and silently thanked whoever invented central heating. 

Some repair work was necessary before leaving for work, namely a quick mini blow dry and reapplication of my mascara, a full clothing change (knickers and all) and a friction rub on both thighs to encourage the return of my circulation.  As I left for work, I hoped that when I got back, and it was time for the afternoon walk that the weather would have improved somewhat.

It didn't...

Ah well.  Such is the life of a mad dog lady...

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