More Fucking Rain

Tippy tappy. Tippy tappy. Bang. Crash. Thud.  The sounds of winter 2020 in the van. I used to love lying in bed listening to the rain tapping on the window. It was soothing. The first rainy night in the van was soothing but not now. Not anymore. Its fucking relentless. Day after night, after day. More fucking rain. Not such a calming sound when you can’t hear your self think, never mind hold a conversation. So much rain that you start to wonder if you have parked anywhere near a river and if you had would you be woken in the night buy the motion sickness experienced as your home is being carried down stream with you still aboard. I didn’t factor in emergency life jackets when I built my van but this year, I’m beginning to feel I should have.

Rain means mud. Having a dog means its unavoidable. I can’t just hunker down for weeks at a time sheltering in my tin can of a raindrop amplifier. There is a cycle that has developed. It goes something like this.  Rain makes mud. Dog needs to pee. We get muddy and wet. Dog relieves herself (as do I if necessary). Rain stops for a short time.  Return to cold van wet muddy and cold. Put mud all over van. Warm van up. Dry clothes. Sit down with a cuppa. Rain starts. Dog needs a wee and we start the cycle again. One or 2 days of this is ok. Its expected and planned for by having spare waterproofs but weeks on end is depressing. Roll on spring.

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