Storm at the allotment

There are times when dragging yourself to the allotment is difficult, especially if you have got soaked to the skin on the way back from work, change into dry clothes and realise you about to get a second dowsing on your way to feed the chickens. Eugh.

By the time I got to the allotment, I was soaked (again). As I walked up to the greenhouse, I saw that the wind had ripped the door off and all the glass had smashed. Brilliant. Rain and a broken glass door on top of a difficult day at work.

For some strange reason the chickens were not cuddled up inside their coop but standing in the pouring rain. Strange birds. And there was I cowering in their coop, attempting to escape the hail.