It’s been just a tiny bit wet today! Just a tiny, tiny bit.
It’s been seriously raining since Wednesday evening. Severe weather alerts were proclaimed for this morning. Prudently, The Builder and I left a little early.
Got to Chesterfield. The slip road down to the bypass was closed by a police car. This didn’t unduly worry us. We don’t go down there during the Peak Hour. Passed over the bridge and looked down onto the bypass. The traffic was at a complete standstill as far as the eye could see. Further along, the traffic on the bridge over our road was at a complete standstill. The traffic on the roundabout ahead – well, you’ve guessed what it was doing. The Builder chucked an unauthorised right turn and we headed away from what I believe was substantial flooding at the roundabout and made our way through strangely deserted roads until we reached Sheffield.
Where we encountered absolute chaos. The Chesterfield Road was flooded through Woodseats and we were diverted. Freyja rang to say that further down Chesterfield Road it was also flooded. Normally we pick her up as we pass by the end of her road. This morning we couldn’t get to her. There was flooding at Heeley. In fract, poor Freyja found it almost impossible to get to work. In the end she went home and waited for it all to improve before she set off again. Oh, and she changed into dry clothes.
In the meantime, we in the van were dry and warm and making our way slowly and in a roundabout way to our places of work. I think, in the end, I was only half an hour later than normal. But loads of major roads were closed. Lots of buses and most of the trains weren’t running. Bea came in dressed in her wet weather walking gear and changed when she arrived. Lots of people couldn’t make it in at all. I’m quite proud that I came in from 20 miles away!
But it was unfortunate that the little old lady chose today to put her sarky note under The Builder’s windscreen wiper. She had put it in a plastic bag but the bag had filled with water and the note was absolutely dripping wet. I couldn’t actually unfold the paper and had to decipher it through the wet papery thinness. She’s lucky I bothered. Wet soggy notes don’t normally excite my interest. And I couldn’t read all of it.
She’s not happy that people with vans are parking outside her bungalow. Because, it seems, she has the only bungalow with bay windows and the vans impede her view. Mind you, her house is well set back from the road. It’s not as though the vans are keeping light out of her windows. But you should have read the note. If she wanted to look at tradesmen’s high vans she would live on a trade estate or in a working area like Sheepsbridge. (So – keep out of sight My Man! The snobbery was breathtaking in its effrontery.) Then she suggested that the vans could be parked in the Village Hall car park (but then where would users of the Village Hall park?) and if that was Too Far To Walk – we should tarmac our gardens. Not that that would achieve much in our case. We'd just have a vast expanse of empty tarmac to gaze upon. You can’t get vehicles into our garden. Well, not without knocking the house down but that seems a tad extreme. A very Green suggestion that one! I fear she may just have to put up with it. Henceforth, I shall refer to her as Mrs Bay Windows.
We don’t ourselves park outside her place all that often. (Or, we hadn’t until now!!) But there are lots of vans parked in that road. It’s what you would expect, in a working village. People do seem to get their knickers in a twist about parking hereabouts. A woman from up the road has been complaining to the council about the garage next to her having vehicles parked on his forecourt. The garage was there when she moved in!
It is not raining as this exact moment. And it’s 2 ½ hours until I can go home. I hope it’s still not raining then.
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