There is, of course, something more perverse than small children. Those of you who live in the same country as me, or who have lived here, or heck, even visited here, will of course know that I'm talking about the English weather. It's August. It's raining. Every day, practically. This is not a surprise, of course, but it's still something of a disappointment, particularly with small children at home who would really enjoy a trip to the playground pretty much every day. We did manage it briefly yesterday, in the hour long interval between rain and more rain, but it's a bit hit and miss. It also means that despite now being home during the day, I still have to hang the laundry up inside. The trials and tribulations we endure...