Sunday 8th October 1811

Dear Diary,
I do believe someone is not getting their fair share of precipitation.
My garden has had more than enough and although I have been contemplating a water feature I fear the one I possess at present is not to my liking.
I shall set Harden Thicke to draining it when he arrives on the morrow.
I pressed Mrs Crutchlow into making a Nethershire Parkin and some oat biscuits whilst I bathed before a roaring fire upstairs.
I returned downstairs and found Willow seated by the fire and peering at his lap. He beckoned me closer and I bent lower for closer inspection.
There upon his breeches lay that troublesome gnat. It appeared to be upon its back with its legs wriggling around.
The parlour door opened but we were too transfixed upon the struggling insect to look up.
"Oh my!" I gasped, "look how it is engorged with blood!"
There was a clatter behind us and an oat biscuit rolled across the floor and came to rest upon Willow's shoe.
We looked up.
"Do beg my pardon, sirs," blushed Mrs Crutchlow bending to gather the fallen biscuits and tray.
"I'll pop back later." 
She disappeared and we returned our attention to the gnat.