We held our parish picnic today. Instead of the calf field where we planned to be, (cleaned up after the recent agricultural show) rain forced us into the church hall. But some people still put on the style. We enjoyed comparing lunch boxes and, right when we should have been lying back for a spot of sun gazing, the kids entertained us with their antics.
I blame the Sunday School for singing God told Noah in worship this morning. In my experience, that always brings a flood.
Last night I almost had a small wager with a friend about the weather today. I had spoken to God and I was so confident that it would be a good day. And it was. Right up until the moment we piled out of church. Then the rain started and just got heavier and heavier. That'll teach me.
I met that friend this evening when I was out and, rather than scorn my misplaced confidence, he commiserated with me on the weather. It was good to know he had remembered us and our hopes for the day. It takes more than a little rain to dampen British spirits - as Glastonbury is certainly proving this weekend! At least we don't have mud to contend with in Inverkip. I just hope I'm not speaking too soon again.