In retreat

Today there was a gale, and the tent came partially down and the rain formed a large puddle underneath it anyway and when I opened the wash-house window a little to let the tumble drier hose vent outside, the rain was so forceful that it slammed against the tumble drier and bounced downwards to make a big puddle on the wash-house floor.  Then all the tent things came inside and everything was wet and the lounge is full full full of things while Brighid's room is being painted.  I took the Christmas tree down in case we needed to light the fire (it is on top of the fireplace, with tinsel wound thickly round the flue).  I still can't find the DVD of Mary Poppins I chose for Brighid for Christmas and indeed I cannot find anything specific in the lounge.

I retreated to my room and my book.  The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, by Aimee Bender, was quite good.  Infinitely better than dealing with the lounge.  I relaxed so much that I fell asleep instead of cooking dinner.  My lovely Favourite Handyman, who had just nobly painted and painted for days until Brighid's room is now a completed and glorious orange, eventually appeared to ask if I was alright.  They do notice the absence of food, and that tends to form a trail to wherever I am.

Fish and Chips.  Very possibly not in my prescription for good eating this holidays.  Better than the squall of unfed children though.


Ruth G said…
It sounds like you coped very appropriately with the disastrous weather. I hope the rain stops soon and normal life can resume.

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