Despite this afternoon’s driving rain I gathered myself up, put on a waterproof jacket and announced to Bert and Clint that I was going for a walk.
“It’s lashing!” cried Bert, “Ye’ll get drooked,” warned Clint. I said I didn’t care, that I wasn’t made of salt and wouldn’t melt in the rain. I was having trouble convincing the dogs but you need a dog with you in wet weather otherwise you’d look like a madwoman. Eventually Paddy took pity on me and removed himself, very reluctantly, from the front of the fire.
I drove down to Cully and took the river path. Right down beside the river I veered off the path to walk under the trees. It was slippery and I took the precaution of cosmically ordering a fall-proof walk. After a bit I went back onto the path, promptly lost my footing and went flat on the broad of my back. As I reclined in a puddle, looking up at the grey clouds hiding the Cosmos above me, I thought to myself, “What went wrong?” Then I realised that my request was applicable only while I was off the beaten track and that my protection was lifted as soon as I took my very first step back on to the path . It was then I knew that the Cosmos was having a bloody good laugh at my expense. What else could I do but laugh along with it?