Walking in the rain...

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I am so fed up with the rain.  I'm not saying that we've had a lot in the Home Counties, but there have been the odd dog walks when I expected to be passed by Noah, cheerfully calling out to me as he glided by, 'Room for one more, Missus!'

Anyone who has dogs will know that going out is not a choice.  Well I suppose it is a choice, if the decision is between walking in the rain or having your leg chewed off by an over exuberant schnauzer.  My two furballs hate the rain, but they hate not going out in it even more (crazy canine logic) so every morning before work this week, I've had to bundle myself up and drag them around a wet field for an hour, muttering under my breath that I have just about 'had enough'.  

I think I mentioned this last week, but my wellies have sprung a leak, and I've decided to write to Hunter and have a good old fashioned British moan at them.  I was just about to order a new pair on Monday, when it crossed my mind that this would be the fifth pair I have had owned since Percy joined us in 2012.  Basically, I have spent almost £300 on wellies over the last six years, and I really think that if price equals quality, then they shouldn't be splitting and puncturing after a year of so of wearing them.  Anyway, gripe over.  I shall write my email  which will make be feel better.  There'll be no reply naturally, but by then the sun should have returned and my wellies might be a distant memory.

For now though, they are still being taken out each morning with the dogs.  On my return, I have to towel the dogs down, wring out my socks and remove the head wear of choice for that morning.  This is the other problem with the rain if you have curly hair.  Either I walk with my still damp curls uncovered, and risk returning looking like Don King (this is doubly bad if it happens to be windy) or I jam the husband's mock Cossack hat on.  I choose this hat because his head is larger than mine, so the hat merely skims my curls rather than squishing them.  Mind you, it's that big, it also skims my eyes and nose on occasion, and there is a lot of pushing it back up my forehead as I walk round so that I can see where am I going.  Of course, if the rain is heavier than normal, the hat takes on so much water, it's almost impossible to take off when I get home but that's another sorry tale ...

But as the husband always says, when I'm complaining about being out in the rain.  

'You're not a biscuit.  Stop moaning'...



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