Fading Memories

When we hear pitter patter on the roof at six in the morning, it's very unlikely to be little feet, and indeed today it was rain by the bucket load.

It was the sort of rain that made one want to sit down with a book, a nice cup of tea and one's knitting, so one did, while the other battled entirely unsuccessfully for endless hours with the mysteries of web editing with cascading style sheets. It's clearing now and he can give up, and by tea time the sky will be bright blue and making rash promises about tomorrow, so we may even wander down town to see the lights and fireworks this evening if our mates from Tampa Bay have rolled home in time, otherwise there's always tomorrow.

In the meantime, we'll knit and read and curse the rotten computer for not being logical and obvious and clean a couple more windows and just generally enjoy an "at home" day.