Life at the moment seems to consist of endless rainy walks with lots of mud.

The dog loves it and, although not my favourite walking weather, I don’t really mind the rain either, even when it’s black-sky biblical stuff. Or at least I don’t mind whilst I’m out there in it, but when I get home and find that my knees are cold and damp, and a change of clothes is the only way to get warm and comfortable, I begin to resent it. So much so that I usually don’t bother – wet jeans are surprisingly difficult to take off.