Wet and Warm.

As I look out the window the rain is hammering down. It has been like that most of the day. Not much chance of any play in the 5th Test at the Oval today. That said it is warm outside. A warm wet late summer's day. It reminds me very much of that day 6 years ago this week that I first visited the town I now call home looking for somewhere to live. That summer was a washout and I vividly recall my anxiety as I stood in the pouring rain waiting for the agent. That flat never work out long term and I'm now in my 5th year living in this flat.

My mood today very much matches the rain; I feel very flat. I'm not sure why but given the evidence of cigarette butts in my ashtray it was a bad night. I had respite from the nightmares on Thursday but not last night. Bad dreams usually means a bad start.

I wandered into town to shop then out into the country to visit the Waggoners pub for a pint of IPA. Given that there is little prospect of watching any cricket my mind turned to music. But what? Puccini, Handel, Britten, and Pink Floyd all came to mind. That combination reflects the eclectic nature of my mind today. I settled for Handel in the end and the Messiah is playing forth very clearly. Now I think I will read, got very behind on the Jerome K Jerome as I seem to have done with all recent books. It is a slow day. Let's hope tomorrow picks up.

I Heard a Voice.