The first time I was in London I stayed at a hotel where the Illinois National Guard was housed, sleeping on the floor of some woman’s room. She was gracious enough to offer me a roof when she learned I had no idea where I would stay that evening. We were chatting on a tour bus from Stratford, me the vagabond, she a productive member of society. It was kind of nice to have a place to spend the night in a foreign country on the government’s dime.
Anyway, it did not rain then. Nor did it rain on my second foray to London when I was happy to further explore the city, this time from the vantage of a week’s stay with my sister and niece, and obviously with a bed of my own. However, the third time I got to experience the drizzle and gray – the London fog. This only comes to mind as it is raining steadily and continues into the afternoon today, beckoning me to abandon my cleaning frenzy and relax with a book and blanket.
Sigh. Off to get my mop and bucket and channel that outside moisture onto my floors.