Parched Earth, Battered Roses and Old Dogs

Well, we managed to have a semi torrential downpour here yesterday (sodding bully boy of a thing, battered my lovely white roses to hell and back) and a little bit more of the same today.  It's all very well saying 'at last - rain'  but it's not much use unless it rains for a while, like all day for a couple of days.  Earth here is as dry as concrete.  Makes me wonder why this little bit of the south east corner of England is always the driest, warmest place in the spring and summer.  Why just here and not, say the south west; Cornwall, Devon and the like, it's unbearable at times especially when there is high humidity.  It's not like the south east is anything special weather wise, like under a gulf stream all the time, drives me mad. 

The sunshine and the warmth is very nice but not at the cost of the crops and the flowers which need the rain.  At least it's not snow (can't even say that word out loud yet or the dog goes potty looking for it, yes and he's a border collie too - gives his breed a bad name at times).  Old doggie (and he is old now bless him) still goes out in the rain, using the hedges in the back garden to scratch his back, and come in again with half the garden on his back where he's been right in under the hedges to the fence to see who is trying to get in (gardening to you and me).  He refuses to believe he is getting on for 12 and still behaves like a 2 year old.  His brain is leaps and bounds ahead of him and he looks so bewildered when he can't get to whatever it is he needs to get to as fast as he thinks he can.  Yep, getting old is no fun and I can vouch for that.  Me and him in the same boat at times.

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