Conclusions

Coat: waterproof
Front of trousers: not waterproof
Seat of trousers: not waterproof
Back of trousers: not enough evidence to judge
Shoes: pretty much waterproof
Socks: evil devices for channelling water into pretty much waterproof shoes


It is raining in Münster. I was warned that it rained here pretty much like it rains in Lancaster. So far, this has not been the case. In my recent Lancaster experience, it has rained on an awful lot of days, and generally not all that hard. In my more recent (and yet admittedly more limited) Münster experience, it rains less frequently, but with a bit more commitment.

The first time I was caught in the Münster rain, I was on my way to an organ recital at the Dom. Mother and Anne were arriving that evening, and I hoped to sneak in a quick bit of music before I collected them from the station. I cycled to the Dom, wearing my jeans and waterproof jacket. This was when it became clear to me why one does not wear jeans when out hiking. It also became apparent that my waterproof jacket was a long way from living up to its name. Granted, the jacket part stood, but the waterproof part was not in evidence at all. It stuck to me. I wore it during the recital (those who didn’t walk out in protest at the fact that there was not, at any point, any discernable tune gave it a standing ovation. I can only assume that he played the random notes very well), as the other option was putting it on again while it was cold and wet, and I figured that my body heat might make it dry out more quickly. Certainly, by the end of the recital the sleeves were sticking to my arms with much less commitment than they had been at the beginning of the recital.

Yesterday, there was a repeat performance. On Sunday, it rained a lot, too. As the Internet is closed on Sundays, I took the opportunity to stay indoors all day and read, mostly. I also did some spinning, and worked on a job application letter. It was a lovely day. I was supposed to go to the vegetable garden and water it, but figured that I would probably get away with leaving that to the weather.

Yesterday, however, there were things to which I had to attend. I went and bought some wool to complement the wool I have been spinning (I will shortly start to weave what I hope will be a very beautiful scarf, but must first spin yet more wool, so that I have enough warp threads), then went to check my e-mail, and whatever else it is I do. I left at a more reasonable time than usual, as I wanted to go to a supermarket that closes at 10pm. Unfortunately, it was raining quite hard.

Mother had taken pity on me during her stay, and lent to me another pair of trousers and her waterproof jacket. You know how it went. The trousers, though, dried out impressively quickly. The socks were still wet when I went to bed.

Today it continues to rain. I was hoping to find a pair of waterproof trousers here, but have not done so. Had I realised the extent of the rain, I would have asked Mother to bring my waterproof trousers with her, but I realised too late. Today, I must do the Internet thing again – there are things I need to check before I send off this job application letter. Which I would like to do today. Which SO isn’t going to happen. I am annoyed with myself for being so behind. I need to make plans, which I will not be able to do until I hear about the results of this letter.

And on that note, I shall leave the dry sanctuary of the flat, and head out into the Great Known. And get wet. Who knows – I may even get this job application finished, printed and sent before the Post Office closes...

Wet

I went to the Lake District today, to visit Lydia, one of my friends, who has recently moved into a new house. The house itself is a lot nicer than mine (with the exception of its lack of double glazing and full plaster on walls); they have put a lot of effort into improving it, and it shows.

Alas, it had been raining enthusiastically for rather too many hours, and the roads in both directions (i.e. there and back) were scarcely passable in places. My valiant medium-sized car did an excellent job of not drowning (with aquaplaning on the faster roads). There was only one puddle that I didn't dare to traverse myself, and there were two extremely helpful men who let me turn off the engine and pushed me through to the other side. I was impressed, and also relieved - I really wasn't convinced my car was up to that.

Unfortunately, the long drive seems to have taken quite a lot out of me, and I am tired. Otherwise it would be faintly amusing; it has potential.

Pretending

Yesterday evening it rained. Then it rained some more. Streams formed in the streets and gardens, and a fountain sprang from the drain at the bottom of the hill. Boys danced in the streams wearing only their underpants. The cat stayed indoors.

We sat inside, sipping wine left over from our hosts' wedding, listening to the rain. One by one, more of us arrived until there were no spare seats. Some of us sat on the floor.

With the window open wide behind me, I breathed cool evening air. As the rain grew heavier, I pulled the window to to keep the splashes out; as it slowed down, I opened it wide to let the cat out.

We talked until late, of making wine, of holidays past and holidays to come, of Monday evenings with friends.

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I talk of trying something new; of being afraid of failing, but putting myself forward anyway; of how life is for living, and how we should not stagnate; of following dreams. I dive headfirst into new projects knowing that I will not succeed; I know that if I do not try, I will never succeed. I pick myself up and try again. I aim to be relentless, and sometimes I am just that.

I do not mind the failing, really. Everything is as it is. It will be as it will be. It is all right in the scheme of things; it will all come right in the end.

This blog is an experiment - I want to see if I can write. It is also a tool - I know bad writing when I see it, and shall learn from these early posts.

Be patient, my non-existent readers: the standard of writing here has to improve. There is no other way for it to go.

Also, please stop laughing. I appear to have got my head stuck up my bottom, but snickering is not going to help me to get it out.