Tuesday 25th August 2015

Monday

And what is that sound? Oh, that was just the weekend whooshing by!

As sure as day follows night, then Monday morning follows Sunday evening. Although, in truth, I do not have the same feeling of dread that I used to have when I worked at the chicken factory back in the day: Sunday evenings used to be horrible times, with just tens of thousands of chilled chickens to look forward to the next 5 days.

Jools goes to work, leaving me with the cats, whilst outside the promise of of heavy and thundery downpours from 'any time now'. So I power up the storm watch program, and look to see if we are in for a storm. This is not one blip over Western Europe: shurley shome mishtake, as Sean would say. But, as the morning goes on, there are pings as storms build over central France and move up to Belgium before moving over the Channel. They never quite reach us, as the wind seems to change and blows them north and east up the Essex coast, and I just hear the distant sound of thunder. But we do get get torrential rain.

I mean it pours and pours. The cars look out the cat flap, mournfully, a questionable meow asks if I can stop it: I can't.

I get down to work, and the day pans out as usual, with meetings cancelled and mails to answer. The project I have been working on has been closed, and the official announcement is made. I did some of that! quite a thing I seem to be doing.

Darkness falls just after eight, and I put on the football on the radio. As I sit on the sofa trying to keep awake, a juvenile fox comes to feed in the garden. He does not notice us just a few feet away, and carries on munching on peanuts.