MIZZLE

So, another Monday rolls around. Is there a name for rain that's not really rain? Walking to work this morning was like walking through a cloud - tiny fine rain droplets that weren't really falling; they were sort of suspended in the air.

The umbrella was pretty useless. In fact, it blew inside-out while I was crossing the A4. I couldn't figure out which way the wind was blowing so I wasn't able to invert it - I had to bend the spokes back by hand. Oh, plus there was a truck pelting towards me.

I think they call it 'mizzle' in Cornwall - somewhere between mist and drizzle. The sky is still bright behind the clouds and it's not cold - it's the kind of rain that reminds me of old holidays.

Speaking of holidays, I've been invited to Malaysia. I bet they don't get mizzle - and if they do, it's probably tropical mizzle - um, trizzle? - which must be like walking through a kind of urban sauna. An old schoolfriend got in touch, out of the blue - which was a very pleasant surprise.

The thing is, I don't think this is even really mizzle - it's not precisely half-way between mist and drizzle - it's much more drizzly than misty, and there's not even enough of it to get you wet. It's certainly not 'Fine Rain That Soaks You Through' - I'd have expected my knees to get wet with 'Fine Rain That Soaks You Through' and today, that didn't happen.

This is more drizzly than mizzly and less rainy than actual rain - it's just sort of there, swirling away in a nebulous blanket of the tiniest, most pathetic droplets in an English summer.

Oh well. Maybe the sun will break through by lunchtime and bring a little hope with it.

Still, there's always Kuala Lumpur, I suppose.