There’s been absolutely appalling amounts of rain where I am, with guttering barely able to cope with the amount of rain coming down outside, roads flooded thanks to a combination of the volume of water and a lot of leaves clogging up drains. I’d got up this morning to a reasonably mild and dry morning, walked the children to school and came home to do a bit of work from my desk in the study. If you’ve ever visited SLN’s offices at the Eden Naturist Estate, the real life version is remarkably similar, dominated by a huge and overflowing bookcase, a desk and the computer equipment.
My mother used to call these weeks ‘the dark days before Christmas’, and it was so true today, necessitating lights on by 2pm, just as I left to walk down to the school and collect the children. It was raining as I left, but they had their wet-weather coats on, hats, gloves, and it’s only a ten minute walk, so we don’t use the car. Oops! What a bad mother I am, as the heavens opened just as the school bell rang and we had to trudge uncomfortably back home in what seemed like monsoon type of rain. They managed to get home quite dry, but I was soaked right through to the skin. Having got them changed and into dry clothing, I settled them down with some glasses of milk before heading into the kitchen to try to peel off denim jeans soaked right through. Have you any idea what a difficult task that is?
Yep…wet right through to my undies…which I was in the process of taking off and throwing into the washing machine when I noticed that a couple of towels which I’d pegged out yesterday and forgot about had now slumped to the grass. So I’m in the kitchen, totally naked, and I make a decision that, rather than get more clothes wet, I should make a dash to the bottom of the garden to retrieve the towels wearing nothing but my birthday suit and my wellington boots 🙂
Being naked in the rain wasn’t a first for me; I’ve been on naturist beaches when there have been showers, and gone swimming in pools while rain bounced off the surface of the water -I mean, I’m going to be wet anyway, so tramping back to a naturist apartment in rain, or to the pool in a downpour is no big deal- so it seemed the rather more logical thing to do than get another set of clothes soaked in the time it took me to get down the garden and back.
Still, as the summer fades to nothing more than a memory, and next year before I get some first-hand naturism in again, it was still fun to dash naked down the garden to retrieve some fallen washing. But that little, totally unexpected bit of naturism was fun.