Yesterday was a Bank Holiday, and as is usually the case on such days, there was a car boot sale down the road from me.
I woke early, thanks to a certain small person that decided it would be fabulously entertaining to wake up at 5.30 am in full-on scream mode. After settling her back to sleep, my mind started whirring too much to go to sleep myself. At that insanity-inducing hour, I decided to get all our household crap together to sell off to unsuspecting townsfolk.
Cue Weather Watch (tm). Every few minutes, I would glance out the window, and try to assess my chances of making it outside that morning. There was a very strong wind, which was a bit deceptive actually, because it would sometimes blow all the clouds out of the way and everything seemed bright and sunny for a few minutes. I would then rush around, digging useless junk out of hidey-holes and crevices, preparing to Turn My Trash into Cash!
Finally, when I committed myself by digging all the crap out from behind the couch and the kids spread it across the house in a thin layer and were happily fighting each other to the death over dusty broken toys and bits of old cookie crumbs, I conceded defeat. Gale force winds were blowing clouds across the sky and bending trees into unnatural positions, fat raindrops were splatting against the windows, and there I was with a huge pile of stuff that no longer had a home because I rearranged the living room and cleaned all the hiding places.
For the rest of the week, the BBC is forecasting rainy, windy and cold days. For the rest of the week, I have my kids at home because school is out for half term break. For the rest of the week, I will go gradually more insane.
English summer is a contradiction in terms. Sigh.