NA minus 4

I drove over to Peterborough on Saturday to get some final bits and pieces for the trip.  As I crossed the Welland Valley on the south side a fine drizzle came in from the north and with it a rainbow, the end of which firmly ended in the field next to me.  I stopped the car and got out to look at it.  It is a rare event - being at the point where a rainbow ends - and has happened to me only once before but it seemed as if it was almost close enough to touch.  I considered for a moment going to see if I could find the crock of gold but as I stood there in the light rain looking at the rods of sunlight breaking through the clouds I decided that my life was good enough without it.  And anyway, perhaps if you found the crock of gold that would mean no more rainbows.  I didn't want to take that chance.

When you fly, you get very hung up on the weather.  I'd got up early to check the TAFs and METAR ahead of my flying lesson at Sibson (www.sibsonflying.co.uk) and decided at 9 that I would cancel it.  Interpreting the meteological information from the aerodrome takes a few minutes when you are still learning and so I decided to use an age old and guaranteed method of checking.  I looked out of the window.  To call upon a technical term used widely amongst us aviation types the weather could precisely be described as..... 'pants'.  It looked like God had picked up his tin of weather conditions and decided, for a joke, to empty the lot of them out at the same time - wind, rain, sun, low cloud, hailstones.  You name it, we had it.   But within a few minutes of cancelling my lesson, the sun came out and the rain stopped.  Would you believe it.  I was in a quandry.  Do I call them back up and reinstate it and then take the risk that the weather decides to boogy round abit again and so then have to ring up and cancel it a second time? No, I decided I would stick with my decision and as a consequence got a crick in my neck from peering out of the car window checking the weather and being unusually indecisive all the way to Peterborough.  At Wansford it started to rain.  Hurrah I thought (I know, it's weird.  Usually I want it to STOP raining) but it meant I  could safely wind my neck back in and continue on my way with a fairly smug look on my face.  Right decision.  For once.