La Pluie Est Pissant 😁

What a weekend! I had it all planned out but it went pear-shaped almost instantly. Going to a surprise party in Croydon from Somerset, no problem. Allow 4 hours for travelling so I’d have time to change when I got there, and generally hang around shooting the breeze. A nice little amble down the A303, clock Stonehenge on the way, fabulous. It was all going so well, driving past the spectacular colour-show that is autumn. Having had a truly lousy week where I actually overslept on one of the days, waking up at the exact moment I was supposed to be at work because the blasted alarm didn’t go off, I was really looking forward to this weekend. Not that the week was a complete bust – of course I had one of what I now think of as my personal rainbows. I was driving to work on the gloomy ‘late’ morning, thinking ‘Where is the SUN? ‘, and I thought, ‘It’s moved from the sky into the leaves’ The colours are that amazing. Yep, I’m a poet and I don’t know it 🙂 There is a particular yellow with a hint of orange that you will occasionally see in oak tree leaves at the moment. Oh my giddy aunt, if I could EXACTLY replicate that colour on canvas, my work here would be done.

So, technicolour amble down the A303 despite the lashing rainfall till 5 miles from Stonehenge, then a complete stop – for 45 minutes. Broken-down caravan, single lane traffic. And then downhill all the way– apocalyptic rainfall, M4 closed, M25 closed, I could have cried. Tried a detour through Surrey but the reception was so bad, Google Maps lady had a nervous breakdown — turn right, turn left at the rounadbout, turn right in 300 yards, I don’t know where I am! Aarrrggghhh!! Abort, abort, abort— in the end I turned the damn thing off and navigated with good old-fashioned logic and motorway signs. The rain was so bad, no one was even doing 60. On the motorway. In England. Believe me, I have seen these maniacs going 90mph with black ice on the road. Upshot, the journey took 6 hours. For 180 miles. The flight time from London to New York is 6 hrs and 50 minutes, just to put that in perspective. Having had nothing to eat since 11am, by the time I got to the party I could have eaten a scabby horse between two old mattresses. An old East End saying – don’t say you learn nothing from me. The party itself was fab and the celebrant is worth the hassle but if I don’t see Croydon and its insane one-way system for at least a decade, it’ll be too soon.

Come Sunday, bright warm sunshine. What a crazy country. Bonus– the Thames broke its bank at high tide in Chiswick so the local canoe club immediately tried to paddle on the street. It was tremendous fun and we all had a clear conscience as the houses are well set back from the street so none got flooded. I gave my SUV (ULEZ-compliant, please don’t write in 🙂 ) a hug after sloshing through the water. My old car would have given up the ghost immediately and I felt rather smug when the Audi and Mercedes in from of me freaked out. Suckers! I got extremely wet getting these pictures, I hope you guys appreciate my dedication. Worst news of all, our prospective pop-up shop didn’t work out. They want a minimum of 6 weeks occupancy. If I could afford that, I wouldn’t need a pop-up shop in the first place. So back to the drawing board. If any of you know of a space that’s available for 2 weeks late November to middle December, please holla me. Finally, la pluie est pissant? It’s franglais, c.f le weekend , as established by the franglais-meister (see what I did there? Three languages!) Miles Kingston. Here’s to hoping we survive the winter without developing webbed feet. Ribbit.