Only four more wet days to go, one more work day only. Then packing. I am taking a truck full of liquor, food, presents and clothes, so quite a feat to get it all into one one bag. I am so excited, so fed up of the rain. Feeling increasingly low about the weather here in Frome as each morning I wake to more grey clouds and the splattering of rain. It may be this new house that is high on a hill and has views beyond the drab 1970s terrace opposite and the distant green blaze of ASDA, over the countryside to the south of Frome. In clear morning sunshine it is uplifting, but in the grim grey grind of these past few months I have struggled to stay appreciative of the better light and the clearer air.
Frome could well be the wettest place on earth.
On a more positive note invitations for eating with friends have filled every evening between now and our departure and it is a treat to know such warm hearted and generous people and to have the time and this great excuse to get together with as many as possible. Handy too as we have little food left. I was going to reduce freezer stock further and I am down to a bottle of buttermilk, some scary looking flat bread and a bag of Ikea meat balls. Ben has his Christmas food parcel which was meant to get him started in Barcelona but looks like it may keep him alive in Frome till he goes.
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