What makes you think I got a bit wet on my way home tonight?
I don’t know what all the fuss in Japan is about!
It has been incredibly hot lately. Last night was hell. Claire cooked us both vegetable bake in the oven. A total waste of electricity and time! Our meal would have baked perfectly well, by just leaving it on our coffee table for a bit – no doubt faster than in our oven.
Even the Tesco delivery man, who brought our shopping into the house, commented on the heat.
I was therefore very envious, when I spotted that a cup game between Grimsby and Macclesfield has been abandoned, due to heavy rain.
Had it poured like this in Bath, I would have sat outside the house, wearing solely my birthday suit, soaking up the beautiful, cool rain.
My weekend didn’t get off to the best of starts. When I left work, the rain was incredibly heavy. It was a scenario where I just knew, that no matter what I did, I was going to get very wet. God had his Super Soaker water gun out, and was determined to get me drenched. Was this penance for cursing to myself, after dealing with a rude and frustrating caller?
Donald Trump would no doubt tell me that I have angered the spirit in the sky, by placing a rainbow arc, in support of LGBT, on my Twitter handle.
Either way, if I was getting wet, everyone else was too, which makes me think the rain was simply a result of the hydrologic cycle and not a vengeful higher being.
A nasty event which did happen solely to me, was to occur when I arrived home. My lovely wife had spotted me, riding my scooter up the path to out house. By this point I was predictably soaked. A drowned rat, as some might say.
As I approached the front door, disaster struck. Driving up the ramp, towards the house, my scooter veered uncontrollably to the right. Part of the scooter was hanging off one end of the ramp. Had I been riding at speed, I would have gone straight off the edge, resulting in damage to the scooter and worse still, another stay in hospital for me.
Despite being shaken by the ordeal, I reversed back off the ramp and back onto solid ground. Maybe I hadn’t been concentrating and had driven up the incline at an angle. I rode my scooter back up towards the house. Yet again, I somehow ended up almost riding straight off the edge.
By this point, I had forgotten all about the rain, despite it continuing to pour from the sky. I was just a few feet away from the sanctuary of home, but being unable to climb the ramp, I may as well have been in Dover. So near, yet so far.
After much panicking, I calmed down enough to climb the ramp, with Claire at my side, supporting the scooter to prevent me from losing control again.
Slowly, we made our way towards the house. Garden snails, out in numbers due to the sodden conditions, looked on, no doubt bemused at my speed and how I could be overtaken in my ascension to the front door.
I made it home, safe and well, if not a little shaken and dripping with rain water. I went upstairs, changed into pyjamas, before returning downstairs, to sit on the sofa and feel sorry for myself.
Home sweet home
I stayed there pretty much for the rest of the evening. So, if you ever wondered how your favourite blogger spends his Friday nights, now you know. Ozzy Osbourne is green with envy at how rock and roll I am!
THE END
It is a absolutely pouring down with rain outside. I would say that it is pissing it down, but I don’t want to swear on my blog.
My mum messaged me this morning “Hope you keep dry going in!”. Little chance of that, mother.
Maybe I should invest in one of these…
That’s one way to keep dry.
The only downside is that I’ll be followed everywhere by Roman Catholics.
Just call me Pope Sean I.
When I left my house for work this morning, I entered a horrendous storm. Rain battered down from the sky. It was extremely harrowing.
The photograph above was not taken by myself. It may surprise you to know that it is not even of Bath! The photo is, in fact, from the Bahamas, during a spell of bad weather, caused by Hurricane Irene. I can never hear the name “Hurricane Irene”, without thinking of that song “Come on Irene”.
Let’s just say that this morning’s downpour was similar to that of Hurricane Irene, but not as bad. By “not as bad”, I mean that no houses fell down, no trees were torn from their roots, there were no major floods and nobody died.
Still, I thought it safer to nick a photo of a natural disaster, to represent my commute to work, instead of taking my own, as I still don’t fully trust the Samsung S10’s waterproof capabilities, and given how I haven’t owned it for long, I don’t want to risk drowning it when I am only two months into a twenty four month contract.
It took me 8 minutes to get from the front door of the house, to my office building. I don’t know if it is possible for a mobility scooter to be pulled over by the police for speeding, but had I passed an officer of the law, I am sure that I would have soon found out!
Despite driving like a 17-year-old Premier League football player, who has just passed his driving test and purchased a one-hundred-grand Ferrari, I made it unscathed. However, I was extremely wet.
Let me get one thing straight, I am certainly NOT complaining. In fact I welcome and even worship this wet weather. Until now, it has been unbearably hot for what feels like months – that’s because it has been months.
Sitting at my work desk and feeling what could almost be described as a tad chilly, is a gift from God, even if I only felt that way because my work shirt and trousers were saturated with rain water.
My only gripe with the weatherman is the fact he keeps promising us more thunderstorms. I love a good thunderstorm – the flash of lightning, followed by the unmistakable rumble of thunder.
If Michael Fish, or whoever decides who gets what weather when, could send a massive, violent storm our way, it would be greatly appreciated. Although please refrain from any storm-related action between 0840-0855 and 1700-1715 BST. I need these windows of time to ensure I make it safely to and from work.
As excited as I get watching a storm while indoors, I equally fear for my life, if I am outside during a lightning show!
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
