Not a witch
The weather's been nice the last few days; nice enough to go out in a summer top and sandals even. Yesterday afternoon it was looking a little suspiciously overcast, so I took a light jacket, but didn't put it on. By the time I came out of the hairdresser's. it was just spitting with rain. Fortunately, Betty Tiger's is on Infirmary Road, just opposite Tesco, where I'd parked the car, so I didn't have far to go. I popped into Tesco and when I was done some 20 mins later, it was most definitely raining.
Five minutes after that, I was parked on the opposite side of the road to my house, watching the cloudbust of rain pounding the world outside while I sat in the car, with shopping and jacket in the boot. I do have a compact umbrella in the glovebox, but wrangling that with everything else seemed too much faff for the short trip over the road. I waited for a few minutes, until it seemed to ease from cloudbust to merely downpour, then went for it.
At least the raised hatchback gives some shelter when sorting out the bags and things. I got ready, braced myself. shut the car and went for it. Now I'd seen that as usual, heavy rain meant steams of water gurgling merrily along the gutters and down the hill. I was halfway across the road before I saw that on this occasion the steam on the other side of the road was the width of the parked cars there, and a good couple of inches deep. I couldn't go round it, and certainly couldn't jump it, I just had to splash through in my sandals.
It was rather like paddling at the seaside, though less stoney than the last time I actually did that. The water was probably warmer, too. Sandals, feet and the cuffs of my trousers were soaked, as well as getting rained on generally. Still, I didn't dissolve, so pretty sure I'm not a witch. And I was heading into my house, so easy enough to get dry. I didn't even bother changing my top or trousers - they dried out quickly on their own. I just towel fried my feet and my hair. Getting damp does tend to bring out the curl, and when it was just dry, it was incredibly full and curly, like a loose afro.
It was just as well I didn't bother staying longer in the car though. 30 minutes later I had to keep turning the telly up to hear Man About The House over the drumming of the rain on the skylight.
Five minutes after that, I was parked on the opposite side of the road to my house, watching the cloudbust of rain pounding the world outside while I sat in the car, with shopping and jacket in the boot. I do have a compact umbrella in the glovebox, but wrangling that with everything else seemed too much faff for the short trip over the road. I waited for a few minutes, until it seemed to ease from cloudbust to merely downpour, then went for it.
At least the raised hatchback gives some shelter when sorting out the bags and things. I got ready, braced myself. shut the car and went for it. Now I'd seen that as usual, heavy rain meant steams of water gurgling merrily along the gutters and down the hill. I was halfway across the road before I saw that on this occasion the steam on the other side of the road was the width of the parked cars there, and a good couple of inches deep. I couldn't go round it, and certainly couldn't jump it, I just had to splash through in my sandals.
It was rather like paddling at the seaside, though less stoney than the last time I actually did that. The water was probably warmer, too. Sandals, feet and the cuffs of my trousers were soaked, as well as getting rained on generally. Still, I didn't dissolve, so pretty sure I'm not a witch. And I was heading into my house, so easy enough to get dry. I didn't even bother changing my top or trousers - they dried out quickly on their own. I just towel fried my feet and my hair. Getting damp does tend to bring out the curl, and when it was just dry, it was incredibly full and curly, like a loose afro.
It was just as well I didn't bother staying longer in the car though. 30 minutes later I had to keep turning the telly up to hear Man About The House over the drumming of the rain on the skylight.