This morning I woke to the all too familiar sound of rain - again. It was chucking it down non-stop and I had an appointment at the opthalmologist's in town. Great! As I got washed and dressed I went through the day's timetable in my head. Leave home about ten to ten so that we arrive in time for two hours parking (the maximum allowed) followed by two hours when it's free. That should be enough to cover the long waits we always experience for eye appointments and maybe lunch at La Fontaine if we're lucky. If we could find a parking place at the end of Cour Briand near his surgery we might just avoid  getting soaked.

But Bear had other ideas. At nine o'clock he announced he was ready and wanted to take his trousers and jacket to be altered before we went to Dr Chaaf. In fairness, I must admit that I had got as far as pinning the trousers but had not got around to the actual sewing because I can't see to thread a needle, let alone trust myself with 'invisible' hemming. Even so, it's not as though he desperately needs that particular pair of trousers right this minute.

So, we arrived in town just after nine thirty and he drove straight past a convenient space right outside Chaaf's and parked halfway down Cour Briand. It was still raining cats and dogs as I went to feed a parking ticket machine. The nearest one was out of order so I trekked to the next one and was pretty wet by the time I got back. But that was nothing to the degree of wetness I endured on the twenty minute walk into the town centre at snail's pace. By the time I  got back to Chaaf's surgery I was soaked through.

After 'checking in' at reception I squelched into the waiting room, hung my non waterproof 'raincoat' over the back of the chair and watched gloomily as a puddle spread out on the floor underneath my waterlogged handbag.

It was only half an hour after my appointment time when the secretary called my name and ushered me into one of the 'surgeries' to await the great man. He came in some five minutes later and after applying drops that had a similar effect to rubbing neat onion juice into your eyes, he used a red light attached to a computer to calculate the correction needed for the implant.

Then it was back to the waiting room to have more drops put in by the secretary at fifteen minute intervals before returning to see Dr Chaaf for another five minutes behind his array of computerised machines.

The paperwork on the other hand was much more time consuming. The secretary gave me a sheet to sign and return to them, another to take to the anaesthetist, one for the Polyclinic to book a room, a list of what could go wrong, and a  list of 'dos and don'ts' for after the operation.

She explained that I would have to make an appointment to see the anaesthetist - even though a general anaesthetic would not be required -  and he would decide whether I had to go in the night before the operation or not. It was also my responsibility to book a room at the clinic. Finally, I had to pay 120 euros for the consultation, (but it should be reimboursed!)

On the bright side, we had time to go for lunch and the rain had stopped at last. But it wasn't half windy!

When we arrived home, the Whale announced that he had called the Doctor because he had a sore bum. The wind was getting stronger and we had to close the shutters and rescue the Christmas tree that had been delivered but had blown into the middle of the road. Then a van came round with one of the Mayor's deputies giving out a message via a loudspeaker. A combination of wind and crackling made what he said totally incomprehensible so I went outside to ask him what he was saying. He read out the message again, looking at me but speaking into the microphone at the same time. It was a peculiar, unsynchronised stereophonic effect but this time I got the message: the Prefecture was announcing an orange alert. Everyone was to stay indoors and not venture out except in a case of emergency, and then only after checking the situation, and this weather warning was in force until 6p.m.

That sounded serious. The doctor would probably not be able to come, but a couple of minutes later, she walked in. I expressed surprise but she explained it was 'La France'. No-one wanted to be held responsible for any mishap so they overdid the warnings.  She diagnosed a bedsore for the Whale and prescribed 'fierce massage', antiseptic lotion and compresses, took her cheque for 31 euros in exchange for a form which has to be sent to the Caisse Primaire so that we are reimboursed and went out into the windy weather.

I checked up our area on the weather website and found that Charleville had had 20 litres of rain per square metre during the last 12 hours - and I reckon most of it fell while we were out in it.