Singing in the Rain

It's been an excessively rainy day. Here in England, we generally get occasional bouts of misty, light rain, but today it fell in torrents all day. Kathleen and I trudged to Queen's College for a very damp tutorial, where Clare actually told us that if she'd had our number, she'd have telephoned and told us not to come today, due to the rain. "Oh well," she said, "I guess when you live in Oxford, you have to get a bit used to being wet." Never have I heard a statement of greater truth.

I suppose you might wonder why I'm so fixated with the weather these days, but I finally understand why the British talk about it all the time. It's infectious apparently. And I've found that I take a lot more notice of the weather when I'm forced to be out in it every day, walking or cycling to one place or another. In all honesty, however, I quite enjoyed splashing my way home through all the puddles, armed with umbrella in one hand and a steaming mocha from the Queen's Lane Coffee Shop in the other. I've found that walking under an umbrella is extremely conducive to singing show-tunes, as the rain creates a certain level of noise, and the umbrella hides one's face, so that no one can be quite certain if that girl was actually singing to herself as she walked down the street alone... It's hard to take life too seriously when you're traipsing through puddles the size of swimming pools. No one looks distinguished as a drowned rat.

On a completely different note, I just had 3 lovely girls over for tea and a tour of our house. Shantha, Amy and Crissy (all 1st year historians from Keble, not to mention some of the most fabulous people I've met!) came over this afternoon and, although we didn't exactly get to lounge in the garden as we would have liked (due to the torrential rain... See! it's an unavoidable topic!), we had a nice time chatting in the dining room over tea and biscuits (which were actually cookies... or at least some of them were, and some were truly biscuits... it was a bit confusing really, but we worked it all out eventually) and walking around the house. It was fun to see how impressed they were with it. I think the awe of these accommodations have slowly worn off for me, so I was both proud and refreshed to hear how much they admired them. 

So now, as I sit at my desk and wait for dinner time to roll around, I am kept company by a bright red balloon, which Shantha presented to me at the door. It used to have a face, but the rain washed it away on the journey here. I can just barely trace the outline of a big smiling mouth and two heavily lashed eyes. 

Oh my... I'm going to miss rainy Oxford days!