The rainy season has begun.
My chickens have been off the lay ever since a massive thunderstorm last Wednesday. Since then, we’ve been getting used to a daily build up of great, threatening cumulonimbus followed by a thorough drenching and I’ve been feeling smug because I finally managed to put up some guttering along my shed roof so I can catch and keep the rainwater. It was much easier than I had imagined it was going to be, leaving me wondering why it has taken me 3 and a half years to get round to it.
These thunderclouds are nearly 10 miles high.
I sometimes tear my hair out dealing with my kids: trying to get the family together for a day-trip, for example, feels less and less do-able as they grow into teenagers. But, of course there are bright moments when they dazzle you with their ideas. My daughter, dutifully doing a school project about space, blowing our minds at dinner telling us how smooth the earth is (“Everest is just a pimple,Mum.”), and her brother mashing this up with his favourite skyscrapers to make this infographic.
I’m going to drag them round Scotland on a boat this summer. Could be fun? It’s an incentive to finally finish the red gansey. Here it is looking a lot less metallic than it did last week when I counted a total of seven stitch holders plus circular needles in its folds.