Thus spake my beloved husband yesterday,
when I completed my latest challenge.
Writing yesterday’s 101/1001 post coincided with a month’s worth of rain coming down in 24 hours (sadly, no hyperbole there). It seemed like the perfect opportunity to complete Challenge No. 20: Dance in the rain.
I put on Mango Groove’s Hometalk - the best dance track, ever; I’m having it at my funeral - ordered the Hub to pick up his camera, and stepped out into our sodden garden.
Here is the result (excuse the blurry pics – I was moving and it was raining):
If you hit the arrow quickly, you can see me dance.
I danced barefoot in the rain for 4.14 minutes. It was liberating to do something and not give a damn about what anyone else thought of me. Some of the neighbours must have noticed, given our low fences and shared walls. I don’t care. I had a blast.
There was just one problem: it was Peter Kay’s fine rain, and I wasn’t drenched.
Next time I dance in the rain, there had better be a hurricane or the Hub’s going to cop it.