“I like it like rain water, my dear” was the standard reply given by a favourite aunt when asked how she took her tea. Unlike Arthur’s cake, this cup, which someone left out in the rain, retained its recipe and would have been exactly to her taste.
The abandoned cup becomes an unusual pluviometer, but a clear indicator of the current season. In keeping with the Eskimos, us folk of the moderate climatic regions, should have a thousand words for rain. I do, and I use them like a parrot with Tourette’s each time that I look out of the window.