This is a photo of my soaking wet laundry on the clothesline, where it's been hanging for three days and three nights.
Every time it's almost dry, it starts raining. So I leave it on the line, thinking the rain has to stop some time.
Silly me. This is England!
Oh, the sun comes out, all right, but it's just a tease, a little peek, and when I go outside to gather my clothes the sky darkens and opens up again, and I'm back to square one.
Three days, going on four. I'm running out of patience, socks and underwear.
See that shirt hanging in the middle of the line, with orange lettering? That's a Pepperdine University t-shirt. Got it from my sister, whose son is a freshman at that beautiful college in sunny Malibu, California. I'm hoping that shirt will be dry by the time he graduates.
Pardon my dramatics, but it's inspired by this British autumnal weather. It's often beautiful, but you sometimes reach the point where you wonder if you'll ever see the sun again.
Now at last I fully understand that classic George Harrison song, "Here Comes The Sun." It could only have been written by a rain-soaked Brit in squishy shoes.
On top of everything else, it's a tricky rain. Sometimes it seems to have stopped, but then you step outside and there it is, a drizzle that's invisible to the naked eye, settling upon your hair and your eyebrows like a zillion tiny insects.
It's the kind of weather that makes mentally unstable people want to shoot themselves. Luckily, the gunpowder is too damp to let that happen.
So, what can I do about my eternally rain-soaked clothes?
Well, one option is to bring them inside and hang them on radiators, over the backs of chairs and off the edges of tables. A lot of Brits do this, which is why so many English homes resemble a Salvation Army "Everything Must Go" sale on rainy days.
But I'm not going to do that. I've waited this long. The rain has to stop some time. It has to. It has to!!!