In which puddles and dogs are fun, but moving is not.

If there is one thing to be said about my current residence at Point B, it is the view of the city skyline, and in particular, the sky itself. Tonight, for instance, there is a spectacular lightning display flashing across the eastern sky, and it's only a recent article on multiple lightning strike victims that keeps us from opening the balcony door to the elements. One section of the sky is actually a luminous green, which isn't something I've seen before. The torrential quality of the rain is something to delight in, too, although 24 hours ago was a different story.

I'd just done a round of grocery shopping, possibly too much, although I still managed to forget the potatoes, and when I stepped on the bus it began. Rain. Lots of it. And when I stepped off the bus there was even more of it. Gushing all over the road and making the usually short walk home seem an eternity. There were two options, but waiting it out seemed like a futile one. And so instead I braved the wet and walked home. In thirty seconds I was soaked to the skin. And yet after a while there was something nice in not worrying about getting any wetter.

Puddles are fun.

All other news is somewhat limited to me taking a walk in the park, and today hijacking two scottish terriers (one white, one black) under the pretence of checking my foot for blisters (in something of an irony there was a massive one on my toe). Adorable things, although I was belatedly told that the black one had fleas. Sure, I probably shouldn't have gone and started cuddling strange dogs, but what is it with me and this kind of eventuality? (See previous blogs on the subject of ringworm in cats) Also am continuing to pass by a couple walking a teeny tiny black poodle which honestly looks as though it's the bounciest, fluffiest tiniest thing ever to walk on four legs. Its owners don't tend to let it out of their sight, though, so I'll have to stage another blister-check at some point. Nevertheless, dogs, like puddles, are fun.

You know what else is fun? Not moving, that's what! And after this weekend I finally have my stuff moved in, and after a brief setback involving hanging pictures, a heavy frame, and a crash in the middle of the night over my bed, things are well here in point B.

Now all I need is employment. Hmm.