Perfect Timing

Sunup, such as it was, yesterday showed a grey, drizzly morning with clouds so low they looked like fog.  Okay, not too bad, but when I went out to feed, that's when it started really raining.  Crum.  My timing was off.  By the time I got to the barn, not only was my jacket wet, but after slogging through the high weeds, my britches were wet to the knees and my barn shoes, old ones that were in tatters, had leaked like sieves and my socks were soaked.  Let's just say I didn't dawdle giving the girls their breakfast.  I left the barn door open and squelched my way back to the house.

By happy circumstance, I'd bought a new pair of shoes when I was in town the other day so I had something dry to put on.  Of course, once I was inside, the rain stopped and it went back to just heavy mist.  It was a good day to get some housework done.  Whenever I did sit down, my lap was immediately filled with fur.  Even Bessie Anne got into the act and crowded her way in.  When the weather was warm, they mercifully let me be and stretched out in sunny spots on the floor.

This was the only glimpse of sun all day.  The sky above looks blue; it was not, and as I walked out the door, it started raining again.  Perfect timing.