So I went downstairs as what seems, at the moment, like the nightly thunderstorm raged outside. Lightning flashed, thunder roared (sometimes at the same time) and the rain poured down in torrents. It's almost as if God is so pleased that we're getting rain that he has to make a huge song and dance about it. As if we wouldn't notice otherwise. "Hey LOOOK! (*crash*) I sent RAAAAIN! (*flash*)"
I sat on the comfy couch, admired the working CD player, put my feet up on the coffee table laden with goodies not yet read and turned on the fine lamp which spills light onto just the right area for a spot of knitting.
I started at the basket of knitted greenery. It stared balefully back at me and whispered something. I leant forward to hear better.
"You do realise you have a half watched DVD of Little Britain second series upstairs, don't you?" it said. "Bugger off".
So I did. At the very least I can say the DVD contained something library related:
Oh, and my theory? Thunderstorms and crafting don't mix*
(*Well duh! obviously I don't mean sitting outside in the pouring rain with an umbrella over my head just waiting to be zapped by lightning while trying to knit. Or, God forbid, use the sewing machine.)
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