I must be cursed

This afternoon I planned to do some planting but put it off until I finished The Ode Less Travelled by Stephen Fry and on finishing it I can confidently say that it is one of the best books I have ever read. A proper review will be forthcoming when it's settled into my brain properly, but this is my instant assessment.
After I finished the book I pulled on my wellies and gardening gloves and got myself settled on my kneeling pad, happily weeding the dug-over patch of the garden and thinking about poetry. Then I began to plant some lettuces.
I had only planted four out of twelve when the heavens opened. Not just a shower you understand, I was prepared to keep gardening in that, but a full blown thunderstorm.
I carried on regardless to finish the row but by then it was too much and I had to run inside, forced to watch the puddles form on the ground and my poor newly settled little lettuces become spattered with mud, just like last year.
I think I must, in some mystical way, control the weather. If we do have the incredibly hot summer that friends and family members are confidently predicting then parts of the country that have been hit the hardest might want to consider paying me to set up a little vegetable patch. As soon as I start gardening, the rain is sure to follow.
It was frustrating, but nevertheless it is pleasant to be inside listening to the restful sound of the rain. It is the sort of rain which comes straight down and makes the air feel wonderfully clear.
And I can use this unused gardening time to advantage and go and curl up with a book instead - after a shower to wash away the mud of course.