You Don't Live Like I Do

 * for certain obscure values of fun.

It was lovely and sunny this morning, so my sister said 'Let's take Mam out for a walk today rather than tomorrow.'

So we popped down to the home a bit earlier than usual, got Mam into her wheelchair and headed off down town.

As we'd arrived before coffee time, we stopped in Greggs to get her, and us, a coffee. Just as we went inside there were a few drops of drizzle falling.

So we got our coffees and sat in the window watching the street theatre - a young man had collapsed and various concerned citizens were visibly on the phone to 999 and following instructions, while waiting for the paramedics to arrive. A paramedic rapid response vehicle turned up, got him on oxygen for a few minutes and then walked him wobble-ily over to the ambulance that had arrived - at which point he legged it, apparently being a known local drug user who'd been a bit too enthusiastic with spice (synthetic cannabis).

The paramedics had no sooner disappeared than the heavens opened, coming down like stair-rods as we say around here.

So we decided we were stuck there for a while, as I'd come out in a hoodie, my sister was just in a light top, and my mother was the only one of us wearing anything remotely waterproof, and that just a light anorak.

As time wore on, and the rain persisted down, and we realised we needed to get my mother back for her lunch, my sister decided she'd pop along to the cheap shop a few doors down and buy an umbrella.

While she was gone, it started to hail, and not just a light smattering, pea-sized, and enough of it there were quickly inch-thick drifts falling.

My sister arrived back with her new £3.50 brolly, but the hail showed no intention of stopping. There was clearly no point in trying it just yet, so I got another coffee to justify retaining the table, while Andrea popped back to the cheap shop in pursuit of cheap kagoules - they must have been doing a roaring trade because every other person passing was suddenly wearing them.

I'm not quite sure why she only bought two, not three, possibly because she was already soaked to the skin, but by the time we got myself and my mother into them the hail had at least stopped, so we took our chance.

I can normally manage to push my mother's chair at a slightly slow walk, it makes a nice substitute for crutches, but as it was still pouring I had to push my speed up, to the point my sister says she couldn't keep up with me. Pushing a wheelchair while wading through drifts of hail is interesting, it almost feels like you're skating. It was at least more pleasant than pushing through ankle-high streams of freezing water rushing past at every side road, especially as I was wearing trainers with the upper in a mesh-y fabric that had precisely zero water resistance.

And of course back to the home is uphill. *le sigh*

Let's not do that again.