Washed Out

When I started this blog, way back in 2006, I lived in Lochgilphead in Argyll.

At the time, I joked that it rained on two days out of every three.

For the past fortnight, Mrs Wife and I have been on holiday in nearby Inveraray, the town where we married (also in 2006).

And I've realised that my "two days out of every three" joke wasn't a joke.

Barely a day has passed without us being subjected to a torrential downpour. Which has meant that we've spent the majority of our time confined to the static caravan where we're staying.

Which, in truth, hasn't been as bad as it sounds. It's been good to get away from home and work for a while, taking with us piles of books and DVDs. The weather has stayed dry long enough for us to have the occasional walk, we've visited a traditional sweetie shop (twice) and we've caught up with family and friends.

But today we head home to what I expect will be a mountain of mail. And Scotland v Czech Republic on TV (which I haven't actually told Mrs Wife about yet....)