Can you see them? They have returned and my cat just looks on. They decide to attack in pairs, both coming from the right, but the chief is ahead. Yes, it looks like it will be a slug summer this year. First of all freezing temperatures in April, and afterwards days of the hot sun beating down resulting in just one iris in my usual bed of at least twenty, and mega hosta leaves, ready for an entry in the Guiness Book of records and now we have the monsoon.

Yesterday evening as I was sitting outside on the porch reading, the rain began to fall. It was no problem for me as I was sheltered. Even the thunder and lightening did not bother me at first until a streak of lightening arrived in a bright yellow-orange colour. I decided it was time to go inside or put on my sun glasses. And then it did not just rain, but it poured. The builders had removed the porch tiles along the edge on the ground to simplify their work, although I have not yet discovered the reason. Now I discovered it yesterday evening. The space where the tiles had been removed had become a river as the water could not escape. I had visions of the water seeping into the appartment and was already planning whether to phone the fire fighters or the police or just alarm the neigbours or perhaps tell the ducks on the nearby river.

Mr. Swiss remained very cool and told me to calm down as the new river was not The Blue Milk Canal a film from a story by Ephraim Kishon where an escaped patient of a mental asylum found a pneumatic drill and turned Tel Aviv into a lookalike Venice, although I kept an eye on the creeping water which had now turned a corner on its way and had already submerged my garden clogs. Luckily that were pink plastic, so they began to float.

I decided to leave the scene of action and go to my laundry room to start the washing machine. I always do this in the evening from 9.00 p.m. as the heavy electricity for washing machines is then half price. What did I see in the laundry room? There was a distinct wet streak from the celling down the wall. Not a big one, but it was there. I decided to keep Mr. Swiss cool and did not say anything afterwards, although I had a quick check in our hobby room, as this was once under water, the whole cellar actually, in the olden days before they had realised that a drain had been forgotten when building the place.

This morning one of my first tasks was to make an inspection of the laundry room, but there was not water, no damp streak – did I imagine it?

And so it rained the whole night through more or less and now the slugs have returned. They thrive on rain and damp and wet things. One made a pause in its walk so I took a close up.

It seemed to be a healthy slug, nice and slimy and shiny. Snails have big families, so I am sure his many brothers and sisters will also be on the way.

I do not think I will be going places and seeing things today in this weather but I still have tomorrow as it is Whit Monday, a further holiday, although what am I saying. I am a golden oldie and we have permanent holidays.

Keep dry everyone, and watch where you walk, there might be a slug in the way.

Sculpture: The Diver, River Thames at Rainham, near London, taken by me on one of my visits to London.