It was a dark and stormy night

And it was.  It was extremely windy. And the wind was accompanied, from time to time, by bursts of very heavy rain.

The Builder has completed putting up the side panels for the kitchen porch and has finished putting the plastic over the top to form a lid.

He has not, yet, put a panel in over the door leading to the driveway, and the "wall" on the other side, leading to the garden is still completely exposed apart from a door.

The wind had a merry game, blowing in through the holes in the "walls" and trying to dislodge the plastic roofing.

It was all quite noisy, especially when you add in the noise that the fan oven makes when it's turned on!

So I wasn't immediately aware that there was a fairly rhythmic banging noise going on until there was a sudden lull in the windy plastic game and the oven noise subsided a bit.

What on earth is it?  The oven about to explode? The roof about to explode?  Some mad person engaged in a spot of DIY outside in the storm?

No idea. But whatever it is, it's now making the kitchen vibrate :-S

The Builder ambled in from the lounge room.  "What do you suppose Sean is doing?" he asked.  Sean is the next door neighbour on the other side of the kitchen.  "It sounds as though he is attacking his kitchen or dining room with a sledge hammer!"

And that was exactly what it sounded as though he was doing (and it explained the banging noise).  But I guess if people wish to attack their houses with sledge hammers, there's nothing to stop them. I stopped worrying about it and went back to making my shepherd's pie.

The Builder ambled off.

And suddenly there was an almighty banging noise on the (new) back door, leading to the driveway.

:-S

I went to investigate. And it was Sean on the hunt for a crowbar. He had locked himself out of his house and his Yale locks were entirely resistant to whatever it was he was trying to break them down with.

So that explained that!!

The Builder, of course, has a crowbar. He and Sean trundled down in the wind and the rain, armed with a torch, to the shed at the bottom of the garden and Sean disappeared home with the crowbar.  A couple of huge bangs later he was back, back door now in bits (his, not ours).

Would seem easier, though, to have a spare key at our place. We are reasonably trustworthy when it comes to other people's keys!

After that it was a relatively uninteresting dark and stormy night.  It was noticeably chillier this morning when I got up. But it's a truly beautiful morning in Sheffield now, although I am told it remains blustery