I realise that this isn’t the correct technical meteorological term but when we woke up the next morning, it was as though the sluice gates had been opened and it was absolutely chucking it down!
From outside there was the sound of (very) heavy rain and when the shutters were opened we were confronted with a blanket of thick grey cloud and horizontal precipitation thrashing against the window – it was all a bit dull and dismal and did not look at all promising. But, I have great faith in the expression ‘rain before seven, clear by eleven’ that I was reasonably confident of improvement as we mopped up the wet tiles under the balcony door, dressed and went for breakfast.
Good morning, Andrew,
looked disappointing and dreary and sadly won’t be going into our top five
Again, the royal "we".
I know that whoever I travelled with – including my dear wife Larissa or my carer Rosalie – we would be guaranteed (had we visited the number of towns/cities that you have) to have at least 2 – and possibly 3 – different Plaza Mayors in our individual top 5 lists.
What I would dearly LOVE – but I fancy that I can save my breath to cool my porridge – are a few words from Kim at the end of every day.
Along the lines of "C'mon Andrew! That wasn't a monsoon: more like fine drizzle if you ask me!"
Of course, I tease you (well, ONLY slightly!): thanks for your latest.
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