And then the rain fell

While the sky remains filled with cold grey blankets, and the cats keep watch on the garden from the warmth of the living room, Spotify fills the study with music from a Paris jazz cafe as I struggle to pour words onto the page in an order that might work well together.

I seem to have happened upon a couple of hours of Sunday afternoon where I might chase my own interests for a change. Of course you find me in front of a keyboard. Of course you do.

I filled the morning with two walks into town in search of a water filter for the kitchen. There would have been only one walk, but I forgot my face mask and only discovered it’s absence after walking most of the mile-long-route through back roads towards the high-street. Cursing my own stupidity, I retraced my steps and returned.

While walking I played out the paradoxical situation where you arrive at a high-street shop that sells masks, wearing no mask, and cannot enter to buy one unless you are wearing one.

While writing, a quite wonderful French singer is singing about… something. I have no idea what he’s singing about because my mastery of the French language extends no further than “I am fourteen years old”, “please may I have a vanilla ice cream”, “two tickets please”, and “I love your dog”. It’s quite nice – listening without understanding – you connect to the emotion, rather than the story.

Rain has begun to fall. Puddles are slowly filling – swimming pools for pond skaters, and atomic bomb targets for toddlers in wellington boots.

I wish I had some chocolate biscuits.

18 replies on “And then the rain fell”

I’ve often wondered about the mask thing…I picture standing in front of the store and asking people to buy a mask for you, sort of like teenagers asking folks to buy them beer.

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We’ve had so much rain here in the last year or so that people have traded in their second cars for row boats. I don’t suppose you’re listening to Charles Aznavour? Oh sing to me in French and I will become a puddle at your feet…

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Oh, I have no doubt the masks work. Getting the asshats to believe that took the first six months of lockdown. When they finally got it, the UK’s numbers fell through the floor (aided by a massive vaccination programme of course).


Send us your excess rain. Mask retrieval has become de riguer these days. We keep several in each car (since where we live, if you didn’t drive, you didn’t get there.) And I have bandana kerchiefs in most pockets–good in a pinch, even if it makes you look like a robber. They’re beginning to relax our mask requirements here, at least for those ‘fully vaccinated’–a function of a pretty successful vaccination program and enormous pressure from the retail industry. We’re not ready. Everywhere businesses are continuing to insist on masks–out of solidarity with their employees and fear of variants. The anti-mask crowd is cheering and heading out to shop. And just how are people, businesses and such supposed to know who got the shot, and who didn’t?

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I was walking to the store up the street, about 10 minutes when halfway there I realized I did not have my mask.

Given this third wave continues its fury and we haven’t been without masks for 15 months this is mind-boggling to me. How could I forget? And why didn’t I have one in the bag with me?


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