Looking out at Ewan

Our second son is called Ewan, so it was amusing for us to realise that after Storm Doris we were to have Storm Ewan, which duly arrived today. Actually it didn't seem terribly wild here - just inordinately wet. After church, and being soaked as we scampered in an unseemly fashion down the church drive to the car, we stayed indoors for the rest of the day, so today's blip is the rainy window. Beyond, the eye of faith can just make out the flooded flowerbed - it's a miracle anything survives the winter in that bed - and the flowerpot in the chimneypot where I have to cut my fresh thyme in all weathers.

Now it's bedtime and I feel more like going out. It's dry, still and cold and I feel hideously frowsty. Is there a name for this disease of needing daily walks?