Rain, rain, go away

It's raining again.

It feels as if it's been raining for weeks. It hasn't of course, but it feels like it. We have had some sunny spells, but I don't think we've had a whole day without rain for ages.

Since I walk dogs every day, I am aware of the rain. They are so encrusted in mud now that I don't even bother to clean it off. So our house is festooned with dog towels. The windows were cleaned inside and out yesterday; a triumph of hope over experience if ever there was one. My house is full of washing draped everywhere in the vain hope that it might dry. We don't have a tumble dryer because we don't think it's a good thing environmentally, but if this goes on we'll be turning on the heating, which won't be doing our carbon footprint any good.

Tomorrow we're off to West Wales with kids and dogs to househunt for a holiday home. We'll be pootling round Pembrokeshire coast and the Brecon Beacons looking at seven houses. None of them will be improved by the rain, I dare say. But at least we'll see if any of them let in the water. What a joke! Apparently torrential rain will be making travelling difficult - we're to expect an average two months rainfall to happen in the next two days. Excellent. Just what the doctor ordered.

None of this is good for repelling the dog. I know some people suffer in winter with SAD - seasonal affective disorder, and they have to spend time in front of those sunlamp thingummies. Me, it's rain does it. I hate it. I can feel myself getting sadder and sadder. I don't care if the sun doesn't shine. I just want it to stop raining.

Yes, we Brits do talk about the weather all the time. We're sympathising with each other. And we laugh, if we can; it's all we can do.