Blog Archives

The Grey is coming.

October is here with it’s greywash.

I have been playing hokey cokey with the rain and the washing.

I love this game so much.

I lost. (A rogue shower flew in and dumped a car wash worth of water in two minutes).

I’m not drawing my face as you can guess the shape of it.

Chuck it in the…

Today is over. That is all. Oh and it rained.

Good morning rain.

What’s it like to run up and down the garden in your pyjamas Mammy?


rain girl

Better bring the dog in…


Someone to watch the raindrops with.


Happy monday.

the school splodge

Back to the grindstone.

Slow to wake, slow to eat breakfast and even slower to get to school. What fun.
back to the grindstone

Rain Faces.

Your average rain face would look like something of a grimace with tiny squinty eyes so not much rain could get in.
It would not be a happy bunny face.
It would be a very unhappy bunny face.
A very wet, unhappy bunny face with a grimace and tiny, squinty eyes.


If you think that umbrealls are there to keep you dry, you are quite wrong.
If you think umbrealls are swords to swipe at the rain, lifts to see Mary Poppins and alien laser defenders then come and join us!

New Ball.

Better be worth it Bonnie, it’s minging out here tonight.

Sports Day 2012.

It’s over.


God it’s gloomy today. Grey, damp and drizzly.
It’s a wonder that all children born in Swansea aren’t equipped with webbed feet and gills.
Maybe I should blame the politicians, the bankers or some media twit for the lack of sun.
Ah shut up Ang, you’re rambling again, throw the dog’s ball before she dissolves into that puddle she’s standing in.

Raining and Pouring.

I don’t think there was a single dry bit on Millie when she got home today.

Miss Independence.

I waited at the top of the road with my brolly. We thought we’d let her walk up the road from school to our house on her own.
It happened to be a horrendous wet and windy day.
I’m over whelmed with guilt.
Millie wants to do it all again tomorrow.


Wet feet, wet nose, wet children, wet bra, wet trousers, dripping wet.
Did I mention the rain?

I Can’t Stand the Rain…

…well actually our dog can’t.

Not sure how I’m going to break the news to her that there’s something significant about Swansea’s weather to make her think she may need to up sticks or get an umbrella…


Raining, pouring…

..and I want to get home, quickly.
It’s pouring off our hair, dripping off our noses. Its pooling inside my bra and seeping in my socks. Damn the bloody library closing on Tuesdays and not telling me!
It’s yummy is it?

Rain, Rain, Go away…

…and don’t come back another day. Really, don’t for a bit. We’re getting a little too much of the wet stuff at the moment.
It’s not Swansea, it’s Swampsea.

Rain ruined play.

Rain and driving winds and cold temperature ruined our camping expedition. We haven’t gone, not yet anyway. The Welsh weather decided to throw everything at us this morning, so we’ve unpacked the car and are waiting for some, erm, form of Spring to return so we can at least enjoy a few days together.
Things I have tried today in vain attempt to change our predicament:
Shouting at the Sky
Shouting at the kids
Shouting at Myles
Shouting at the Cat
Shouting at the dishwasher.
Wouldn’t be too much to ask would it?

A Hard Day in Rain Town.

Tell me when it’s over.


Ugh, rain all day. Constant unremitting rain.

Ugh ugh ugh.


I made an effort today…

Honestly, I did.

Didn’t scrape my hair back, put on my good coat (without a hood), and… it rained.

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