Goodness me, what a difference a day makes. Yesterday was glorious in London - balmy and cloudless. Mrs Me and I sat in the beer garden of one of our local hostelries last evening to enjoy the air. This morning, not twelve hours later, it's 10 degrees cooler and a damn sight wetter. As I write, it's absolutely facking pouring. You can't see the ground. And, remember, I work in a Range Rover.
Off home shortly, which entails my getting absolutely soaked. Still, that's it for the week then. I'm getting the tube in tomorrow as we're off to Cornwall. So get in, strip off and start complaining. Which really could by my epitaph.
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