A little rain must fall.

A little rain, but surely not this much!  I don't wish to trigger another drought by saying this, but: rain, rain go away, come again another day!  We haven't had a dry day for weeks and today it is bucketing and blowing and cold and we are penned up inside like a couple of doleful old dogs.

The rain has chased us up the coast and BOM says it will be here for at least a week. So, while I'm at it, can I complain about a few other things? Well, there's a list, going back at least a week.  Bear with me, dear reader, I need to get all this off my chest.

First I got a scrabble thrashing at the hands of the silver fox. Then the van plumbing began to vomit up the sink water into the shower recess.  I know, broccoli in the bathroom, not good.  David and Bunnings fixed that just in time for the kitchen plughole to spring a leak and drip into the drawers below. David and Chris fixed that one too, and I got another scrabble thrashing. Then we went to have a second look at the house we liked at Forster. Not the one after all, too much to fix.  After that the Landrover back hatch mechanism decided it was time to die and clamped shut like a nun's thighs, with all our stuff packed up inside. That was just before the sole fell off David's favourite shoes. So we drive to Port Macquarie where there is a Landrover dealership. Dropped the vehicle off yesterday, having first unloaded all the stuff into the annex of the caravan, where it is now sitting in a muddy puddle. After that, I got a further scrabble thrashing and I think I may have to retire from scrabble to preserve my self esteem.  Then, this morning, before dawn, before sparrow's fart, before even the kookaburras had woken up, there were walkers on the blasted circuit near us along the seawall pathway. Wide awake and cheerily greeting eachother and crunching on the damn gravel and loudly discussing politics AS IF I CARE! All you type A pre-dawn-exercise type people can go and do all that high achieving elsewhere! But me and my flaccid muscles did manage to get back to sleep. Later an email arrived announcing our particular Landrover may be subject to a recall because of faulty brakes, which reminded David how the brakes did indeed feel odd on the descent into Kangaroo Valley. Welcome to the world of Landrovers.  Can't say we weren't warned.  

I'm listening to the soundtrack of "Once". Glen Hansard opens his throat and howls: you have broken me all the way down...Time to put on something else. A bit of KD Laing, yes, thats what I want. But no! It's in the car.  And the car is at the dealers. And the bikes are bogged in the mud. And we've run out of milk and bread and it's still raining!

Here's a happy snap from a few days back.  Finish on a positive note.