September 3rd

It is pissing with rain and, according to the weather forecast, it will continue to do so for more than a week. Usually, I manage not to let dreek weather annoy me but I'm finding that hard today. To make matters worse Bert, who is always badly affected by damp and cold conditions is hanging around the house sighing and moaning.

He posits going to visit Howard as he has a tree to deliver there. I am delighted as it means I will have the house to myself for an hour or two. Howard is called and the visit arranged. Then Howard calls back. He has forgotten something - his landlord has cemented the access lane and it cannot be driven on. The visit is off.

Bert follows me into my private, secret sitting room.

Can you not just imagine I'm out?

I put my head in my hands.

I'll try that but it's going to be difficult.

Why?

Because you're standing there chittering at me.

Ah well. Perhaps it's for the best that he stays home because, sure as shooting, soon as he leaves the yard one of his friends will turn up and I will have no peace. It's what usually happens.

We have a friend who relishes her peace so much that she used to have a sign at the end of her lane which said 'Visitors By Appointment Only'. I may get one of those some day. Only mine will have a simpler message - something along the lines of 'Fuck Off'.