Raindrops keep falling on my head

Or rather, they don’t, which is the problem. In Iain Banks’ book, The Crow Road, he describes it as raining “… with that remorseless West Coast rain, where it’s been raining for several days and will probably go on for several more”. That description really struck a chord with me and helped explain why I mind rain so much more when it rains in London than when it rained back in Scotland. Back in Glasgow, rain was just an accepted fact. It rained so often that you didn’t really bother about it, you just got on with it. Down here, it rains so infrequently (comparatively) that it’s a major imposition when it does. How dare it rain on me. Doesn’t it know that I don’t have shoes that I can wear to work that don’t let water in and that I have no idea where my brolly is. Hmph.

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