I woke early but, unusually for me, lay there thinking (always an achievement for me - thinking, that is) and wondering why I had had 4 out of the last 5 nights without a nightmare. This morning I woke after a dreaming of a long cheese-tasting session with friends from huge chunks of cheese off a lorry at the side of the road. The Lancashire was judged to be the best. That I so rarely recall dream or nightmare details made this even more bizarre. The rain hammering on the deck roof made the idea of getting up less appealing. Eventually the sun did come out but it didn't stop raining. This photos shows a soft rain which almost seemed to be hovering in the air rather than falling to the ground and making the photo seem like an impressionist painting. Standing in it was like being brushed with silk threads.
I'd completely forgotten that shops in New Zealand are, in general, required to close on Good Friday (as well as Christmas Day, Easter Sunday and Anzac Day, until 1.00 pm). So it is a good job that Wendy invited me there for dinner tonight instead of the family coming to me.