It rains and it pours

It's official. Last month was the wettest June on record. And July has started in the same vein. The last week has seen flooding across the country with many washed out of their homes.

Every weekend recently seems to have been blighted by rain, which is a shame because every weekend has seen some sort of local fair or picnic washed out. Today we went to a Picnic in the Park in our local Thornfield Park, organised by local church groups.

We arrived just in time for a truly torrential downpour. Hayley had a giant umbrella but the rain angled in to soak her skirt. I had a Gortex jacket but I was drenched from the waist down. Only Oliver survived, sitting in his stroller with the rain cover on sucking a lollipop. And even he wasn't happy.

The rain stopped, but no sooner had everyone appeared from under the dubious shelter of the trees, than the heavens opened again. We stood cowering with a couple who had a soaked toddler and a very young baby in their arms, the pram now being a sodden burden.

Finally we got a sunny spell and all had to start abandoning layers and rain covers to withstand the sudden heat. So after Oliver and Hayley had sampled the most burned hot-dogs I've ever seen - and Hayley and I had sampled rain soaked biscuits and luke warm tea - we headed home via the ice-cream van: 99s all round as consolation.