It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring

Well, apparently it's true: I snore. Seeing as both my son and my wife snore as well, I hardly see why I should receive complaints.

At least, that would be my valid argument if it weren't also true that I snore when I'm awake. Which it is.

Ah well.

Can't believe the torrential rain this morning. It's been such a mild autumn so far and then all of October's rain arrived at once. The drains couldn't keep up with it and the car nearly drowned!

Poor Acorn (I'll explain the car's name another time). We had just left Asda, bubba in the car seat wailing his head off because ... well, just because. There seems to be an inverse ratio between the weather and the care with which others choose to drive so that it was exceedingly hazardous to attempt the journey to St Austell market.

Biscuits, however, were calling, so off we went. Acorn had a dip in a disturbingly deep puddle so that she kept trying to stall on me all the way there. It only happened as I was slowing down in second gear for roundabouts or turns, but it was scary nonetheless.

We made it, however, and braved the madness that is St Austell market on a Sunday.

Thank the sparkly angels we're home, that's all I can say.

Well, better get off. One of the cats is resting his head on my wrist and I'm getting cramp trying to type.

Cheery-bye.