It's Rainin' Men

After the no show of the Rapture, the Deluge. Showers of near Biblical proportions cascaded off my nose yesterday. The weatherman said there would be showers, heavy in places, but not this.

I fretted all night. What has the rain done to my gorgeous vegetables? I have visions of huge holes in my lettuces - either from heavy rain drops or half starved slugs and snails bent on feasting after so many days of parched soils and baking sun.

What about my broad beans? Last seen they were standing proud laden with near perfect pods  of scrumminess. What now my lovelies. I fear they'll look as if a crop circle maniac has run riot over them.

My poor tomatoes, I placed about a million of them, so tender,oh so delicate, on the rack (what irony!) outside the shed. I only hope a few stragglers have survived.

On the plus side I won't have to water. It was taking about 1 hour and a half every day to ensure my little darlings were well and truly wet. I didn't mind, but my knuckles were getting sore rubbing along the ground after weeks of dragging gallons of the liquid gold around the plot.

The weeds! They've been gagging for this, gearing up to push through and cover my plot with nasty this and worrying that.

It's not their fault, don't get me wrong. I'm the first to acknowledge their right to propagate, their right to sunshine and rain, the right to a full and fulfilling life cycle and to achieve full weediness.  I just don't think there needs to be so many. Haven't they heard of self control or even birth control?

Talking about rain, haven't the Yanks rained on our Cheryl's parade. Dropping her from "X Factor" before she opens her mouth.(Ed: I think that was the point). And she such a doll, such a pussy-cat!  Mind you, I thought it was a bit of a gamble since our Yank cousins have difficulty understanding David Cameron.  Anyway you're always welcomed here, pet. 

Talk about taking Coles to Newcastle.