When I was a child growing up in the North West, my abiding memory is that it rained a lot. When it rained there was very little to do, and the sense boredom was tangible. Now we’ve had a couple of weeks of solid and regular rain, that same feeling has returned. The grey sky, the damp surroundings and the steady mist of precipitation hanging in the air. Had I grown-up somewhere warm and sunny I might have been able to absorb the incessant downpours as an aberration, as a novelty. As I grew-up with the rain never far from hand, this present batch of rain is more a remainder of the numerous times I was bored as a child. Sitting around looking from the windows hoping the rain would pass so I could at least wander about outside. The more things change, the more things stay the same, it seems.