An ever growing list of tasks sees me dutifully facing what can only be described as a 'dank' day down at the plot (the atmosphere is more akin to a Susan Hill novel than the- 'ever so jolly hockey sticks' -Enid Blyton!)
I once thought it was only the wind that could blow me into a bad mood but I now realise the oppressive shroud of persistent mizzle* is enough to stir the darkest and blackest malevolence.
My achievements today can be measured mostly in wetness and mud.
Today, I do not like my 'jolly' vegetable growing lark. I seek the comfort of trifle!
*indistinctly a mist or a drizzle.