Weather Report

Well that wasn’t nice, not nice at all. It has rained and rained and rained and rained and rained and rained and rained. For most of January so far, and especially this last week.

The wind has blown and blown and blown and blown and blown and blown and blown.

The two together have been NOT NICE!

On Thursday, I was coming home. It was raining in Sheffield. It was raining in Tupton. In Chesterfield it was absolutely chucking it down. Absolutely. The streets had turned to rivers. The water cascaded down off my waxed jacket and soaked into my trousers and dripped into my shoes. The puddles were over ankle height. Not nice :-(

In the meantime, The Builder had been at home, communing in a Builder and feline sort of way with Marlo. Suddenly there was a strange and unusual noise from above, loud enough to hear over the howling wind. He went to investigate - and found that the bathroom window has blown in and was hanging from its top hinge. He’s jerried it back together again, but I suspect that this means a new window will eventually be required. Oh well. It will have to wait until either the jerrying becomes obviously unfit for use, or the window irritates either me or The Builder sufficiently to warrant spending all that money.

But that might be enough rain and wind now. They, together with the very unseasonably warm temperatures (it was 12.5 yesterday when I arrived back into Chesterfield, and it’s mid January!), might have been fun and interesting for a while, but you can have too much of a good thing. And I want to shift the fruit trees! And it has been ever so, ever so dark in the mornings. I had got to the point where I was worried that the cars might not notice me, the weather was so dark and wet. Then I remembered that Barb had given us both high visibility vests just before Christmas. Dug one of those out and am now much more visible.

So. After all those months, The Builder has finally finished at Rampton. He doesn’t actually have any other work lined up at the moment. Or, no paid work, apart from one or three jobs for friends and acquaintances of mine. Plenty for him to be doing here, mind. If nothing else, there’s an estate, not to mention an allotment to work on .

But tell me, if you can, how it is that I have been completely unnecessarily wide awake and ready to function since about half past four. Not only does The Builder have no need to get up and leave, neither do I. And it’s Saturday, for heaven’s sake!