It rained pretty much non-stop since Saturday evening until probably sometime early this morning. While the south of Europe is being baked, we're being drowned. Something's not right, here.
Today, the guy also known to Tammy and I as Willie Nelson is starting with our bathroom. That's bathroom in the non-toilet sense of the word, for all you non-queen's English speaking folk. We picked the tiles for the wall on Saturday, it would be just our luck or Tammy's habit of picking things they no longer hold in stock; the tiles she (and by that I mean we, of course) wanted wouldn't be back in the shop for another 2 weeks or so. The people in the shop weren't terribly helpful, so perhaps we'll go scout around at another branch of the same chain to see if they have it there.
Bailey, who is looking more like a very small Chewbacca every day, is going to have a hair cut tomorrow. He really needs it; he's starting to get small dreads around his ears and by his neck, the parts we scratch the most when we pet him.