Day Thirty Four

And then the rains came. Noah like. Sixteen hours of water, water, water. Tom told me that the little place took in the odd drop or two - I take his word for it; there were too many roads closed, power lines down and crashes for me to leave the apartment. In London it drizzles for, ooh, 20 minutes, your shoes may get a touch damp, everyone worries about their hair, gets on the Underground, steams slightly, and then sits outside while the sun sets with a glass of wine.

It's been a quiet day for the White House. Tomorrow I'm off to West Supply in Philly to look at doors - being a partner at Goldman Sachs has got nothing on that.