We must be in the eye of the storm because the wind has died down and the rain is no longer thundering against the french windows. Dad is in Nobles Hospital having a cataract removed. Anne and I have been for a swim and we are shortly to depart for Tynwald Mills whereupon we shall indulge in a cawfee. There might even be a sale bargain or two up for grabs.
Storm is the norm here in the Isle of Man. When visitors mention that it took them half an hour to walk a hundred yards down the street into the teeth of a gale the Manx raise half an eyebrow and mention that they hadn’t noticed the weather was particularly bad.
If you want to buy flowers they sell them at Tynwald Mills. And cheese, which we had for lunch.