Britain is officially in drought. Paradoxically, we have had the wettest April in a century. Both these statements are true. And Sunday was the rainiest day of them all. I went outside twice: once to buy flour, eggs and butter (for a banana cake made later in the afternoon) and once to pick parsley. Both times I was drenched. Otherwise I stayed safely inside doing very little. This strenuous effort was rewarded with a bottle of elderberry wine, which has matured sufficiently and avoids the 'too young' taste of earlier bottles. It marked the end of a week's holiday, and now I should concentrate on drinking a little less. (Yeah, right.)
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