When the torrential rain hit the UK in September, I was actually paddling (I know, sad or what) in St Ives, Cornwall in glorious sunshine**. I soon took the knotted hanky off my head and rolled my trousers back down when a neighbour sent me this photograph of the babbling, benign little brook that runs – very close – at the back of our house. Normally it is so shallow that the ducks have to walk past, and is only about four feet wide – thankfully this was as bad as it got and there were actually a few more feet to go before it would have reached the garden! Why did I ever decide to live by water?
**Actually paddling is not my scene, I was probably in a bar with a glass of wine.
