This morning I went in early to bake another Wimbledon Cake and await the groom from tomorrow's wedding who was coming to talk about contingency plans. Or what we were going to do with all the canapés and bucks fizz we're going to serve outside if it pours with rain. So Mike arrived in a downpour. While he and I were throwing ideas around the downpour became torrential. I know this because the carpet grew wet. The rain came in under the doors. And it kept coming. And it kept raining until we could grow rice on the carpet. And still it rained.
I did what I could. I panicked.
I called in the cavalry who mopped and soaked up and hoovered up.
Then people started arriving for lunch with tales of flooded roads and shops.
By late afternoon everyone was sitting outside in the warm sunshine.
No sign of the paddy field.
It may have been one of those strange dreams...like when two nuns arrive at half past five and are turned away because we're closed. Ah yes. That happened today too.
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