Another change in the weather.

Wake to the sound of heavy rain around five thirty, roll over and sleep until seven. It is still raining heavily when I let Norman out into the garden, but he trots dutifully down the path in the pouring rain to do his duty. We have Walls thick sausages this morning with our full English breakfast, as they were on special offer yesterday. Somehow they seem saltier and fattier than our usual fare, Normy knocks them back with gusto in any event. While we wait for the rain to start to ease, I prepare lunch, seasoning the topside i bought yesterday with salt, pepper and garlic paste, then I peel and slice the winter vegetables into chunks and coat them lightly with olive oil, salt and pepper and then lay them as a bed for the roast beef. The oven is set on a low to medium heat and our lunch is left to cook whilst we go for our morning walk. We leave home around a quarter to ten, it is still raining, so I dress to face the elements, however by the time we arrive at Cherry, the rain has eased to the odd spit, and it has almost stopped by the time we get into the woods of Newbegin Pits. The paths are strewn with fresh leaves after the storm, mostly ash, there is a last quick downpour, fortunately whilst we are still under the cover of the canopy of trees and then the skies start to clear. By the time we get to Black Mill, the patches of blue are big enough to make a pair of trousers, the old wives sign that the weather is clearing. A couple of large branches have been torn off the trees by the mill during the storm and the cattle are grazing on their leaves. I feel a little tired today, and increasingly hot in my storm gear, as the westerly winds ease and then veer to the south and I soon begin shedding layers of clothing. We walk round the whole common again, but stay on the southern edge of Burton Bushes today to avoid the mud, getting back to the car around midday. By the time we get home, summer has returned, the skies are blue, the sun shining and I am wishing I hadn't put my shorts away for the winter. The beef and roast vegetables are done to a tee and once the potatoes are boiled in the microwave, lunch is ready to be served. The smell of the roast beef is driving Norman into a frenzy, and he hops about around my ankles, wagging his tail and urging me on, as I serve up lunch. We eat together in the garden, roast beef, onion gravy, red cabbage and roast vegetables, with buttered parsley potatoes. A warming winter roast, selected yesterday a day of high winds and cold weather and served today, in sunny, balmy, eighteen degrees. However, one should never complain about good weather towards the end of October! After lunch I stay in the garden, enjoying the sunshine, drinking coffee, and enjoying cracking another tough puzzle. Around a quarter to four Norman and I leave to visit Leslie, he needs help with his computer ordering his groceries from Waitrose. En route I drop off the prescription for diclofenac anti inflammatory tablets at the surgery, they promise to have them ready for collection by Friday. Leslie is waiting for us when we arrive and somewhat surprised to see Norman, I explain that he wanted to come and Leslie seems happy to accommodate him. His bungalow is roasting hot, the thermostat is turned up to 27 degrees centigrade, Leslie says he doesn't like to feel cold, he is even wearing a cardigan. The problem with his Waitrose ordering is easily resolved, they have changed the login screen, and after his sojourn in hospital, it has disorientated him. We log in without problem and then I leave him to shop, whilst I read his copy of the International Herald Tribune. I keep popping back to check on him, he is successfully ordering his groceries, but taking about five minutes for each item. At ninety years old it is remarkable that he is capable of doing this at all and it is better for him to do this on his own. Being able to order his food helps him to retain his independence. He is still shopping by the time I finish his paper, and Norman and I are almost expiring with heat exhaustion. We have been with him for an hour and a half, and it is time for Normy's tea, so we say goodbye and head home. I open Norman a tin, and after his dinner, we stroll down the lane as far as the farm. The sun has just set and the evening is clear and warm, on our way home the little pipistrelle bats flit about above our head, hunting midges. I make ante pasta for dinner and then retire to the garden room to read. Norman snores away happily in his basket, to bed for ten.