This unseasonal weather goes on and on - rough winds continue to shake the darling buds of May and it's raining, again. With impecable timing the Government has declared a state of drought in some parts of the country. Some waggish commentators are describing it as the wettest drought on record.
Of course the rain has made the grass grow and the trees burst into leaf. The countryside is looking its best - fresh and green. The roadsides are frothy white with cow parsley and hedges now heavy with may blossom. I've seen rain drops on the grass twinkling like diamonds when caught in the little sun we've had.
These sheep are rushing to the ovine equivalent of the beauty therapist - manicure, pedicure, Brazilian and a dose of tonic - all to be administered by Carl and Dan over at Fir House. Most years, by now, they would have been shorn but as the weather's been so inclement they still have their fleeces.
I'm still home alone - my travellers are in New York until Sunday evening - they fly back overnight and will arrive back here sometime on Monday. Look forward to seeing them both. In the meantime I'm dodging the raindrops and keeping a low profile - people, kindly, want to keep me company and I'm actually relishing the solitude. However tonight I'm off to the Marton Village Quiz - more humiliation as none of us will have a clue about sport, pop or TV soaps. Still, got to be in it to win it! I believe 1st prize is a weighty £12.00.
Here's a picture of interest to fans of the German Wire-haired Pointer. This dog has been told to 'Sit' but would rather be somewhere else. Note the resentful look.
Finally, and because this will give pleasure to someone, somewhere:
Who'd believe a dog could fly!