Rememberance of rain past

Bucketing rain makes me think of an afternoon in 1999 or early 2000 when I lived in an old, tall house near Brighton seafront with 7 other people.  When there was weather about you could see it rolling in from the sea and hear it buffeting against the front door.   My room was the smallest (I’d answered an ad for the last one available) and at the back, overlooking a tiny yard.  The half that wasn't the bed was mostly books and a huge hi-fi, and I'd put a purple patterned curtain of the 70s over the tatty wardrobe.

There used to be a bookshop on St James St called Tall Stories, and I bought a book about time which I don’t have anymore and made some scones which turned out badly, as they always did.  I listened to Charlie Parker and enjoyed being indoors.  It’s more an impression than a full memory, and there’s nothing remarkable about it.  The only reason it might stand out is that there weren’t many weekend days which I spent alone.  Quite often I worked one or other of them, and I spent a lot of the rest of the time at my boyfriend’s house, who lived with other friends.  Standing on the bus this morning, squashed into a silent deck with sleepy, damp people, it was good to remember a time of feeling exactly like myself.  

Raindrops keep falling on my head, messing up my travel plans, getting in my shoes and generally being annoying.

Look at me, but a few days ago, full of optimism! What a fool I was... no sooner do I suggest that the worst may be over, that February has redeeming features and that hibernation is not the only sensible option, than this happens - biblical-style lashings of rain, that's what. I have been thwarted in my attempts to reach the class I should have been teaching tonight due to rail and road links being severed, and without waterproof trousers too.

If this continues I shall, as usual, contemplate building an ark to save myself, Mr Listingslightly and sydthecat, as well as any other creatures we pass by (lemurs or goats preferably, and in pairs if possible). However, I have also considered the fact that sydthecat may secretly be a Turkish swimming cat, as I have always hoped. He does look rather like he might be, as you can see by comparing these pictures with this one.

I met his mothercat, and she didn't look much like a swimming cat, but I like to think that his fathercat swam to Brighton from distant shores.

Intriguingly, there is a story linking Noah (of ark fame) and swimming cats here.

Hmmm.... I see I have not managed to contrive a list into this post, although there are interesting facts and links to pictures of swimming cats as consolation. I have been working on a cat-based theory, though, and will soon share it.