It has rained everyday since our return from France, and it was rainy before we left. Mind you, the weather wasn’t perfect in France when we were there,either, but as far as I know, France has been spared the destructive downpours and floods which are devastating some towns in Yorkshire. I like rain; like the lush countryside water creates, the dripping, green tunnels over narrow roads, the rolling hills, and gardens brimming with colorful flowers.
We have discovered 13 varieties of roses in our garden, and each month another bush or shoot bursts into flower and we identify a new plant in this our first summer in East Burdens. 
But now the garden begins to suffer. Buds on the pink rambler clambering over the fence do not fully open, but instead turn rusty brown. 
Other rose bushes fare better, but the heads droop and weep. 
Impossible to cut the grass as the rare shafts of sunshine don’t last long enough to dry out the earth. Last year there was a ban on using hoses in the garden (hose pipes in England), and instructions on BBC about how to avoid heat-stroke. Last Sunday, The Times had a paragraph on the front page predicting rain for the rest of the summer.
My Wellington boots are getting worn in, at least, since my walks with Tasha lead us through squidgy mud, puddles, and rivulets trickling down the hills.
I spent days searching for comfortable wellies last summer, and found a snazzy dark teal blue pair of Hunter’s which are perfect with my orthotics. Then we had a glorious fall and I didn’t need them. Then my Achilles tendon broke and I couldn’t walk at all. So I am grateful to be walking comfortably at last, whatever the weather, meeting Molly, a frisky, leggy, adolescent Dalmatian, followed by a dripping hat and coat that turns out to be her owner Jill; the bouncy Terrier, Max, and his walker Anne, who looks slim even under her Macintosh, and even a couple of men I’ve never seen walking dogs I have seen, which must mean their wives are on strike. 
Anyway, tomorrow I’m flying back to Nice for my friends Lise and Sven’s wedding and the weather report for the area looks like summer.