So into town you hurry, to the man who sells the small bales of hay, but "No" he says, "I'm having a cup of coffee. Come back in half an hour". So you do a quick about turn, say "*******!", or words to that effect, and hurry back to home, meanwhile embracing the moment as best you can as the wind plays with the car, which is not really a 'proper' car but a little white van, so can be easily buffeted about should the wind be in playful mode.
So you spend a wet time getting hay off an old hay bale, which is soaked on top, but dry underneath so you have to pull the wet hay off the bale first. You take the hay into the sheep barn. The sheep are not impressed and complain, but you hurry away, wanting to get back into the dry yourself.
So then you go to let the chickens out, and with gladness see the plump, fluffy, Orpington hen appear. You feel happy because she was done unto death by a pack of dogs from down the road who came on a rampage two days ago, killing three hens and shredding another to bits, although that hen has survived. The Orpington must have laid low until she thought it safe to appear again. We think the hens will stay under cover today. We hope the winds do not lift them up and away.
Back indoors, and on no, the fire needs to be lit. But you are now damp all over, so follow through with going and getting the firewood in from where it is stacked, which is just round the corner of the house. Oh dear, the tarpaulin has gone, the wood is wet, not to worry, carry on, fire lit, house warming up.
This, then, was what my husband was having to cope with this morning before he started on another strenuous day of computer work. The internet keeps switching on and off, and the electricity is trembling suggesting an imminent power cut. Not to worry, such are the joys of living in rural SW France.
No venturing forth into the outside world for me today, so meanwhile, I try to stay jolly by trying to get a load of fairy light angels to behave themselves, but most wouldn't. Some insisted on flying upside down, or sideways, or any way other except standing straight, except this one.....
....and then there were the others.....
upside down and all about...
........ not behaving in the manner which is required of an angel on a Christmas Tree,
These angels have been donated to me, plus the string of fluffy pink hearts, together with a Christmas Tree on which to put them, by Laura, bless her, who is moving from SW France to the south of Scotland in the next few weeks.
The tree is still work in progress.
Our original Christmas Tree and decorations all became done unto death by drowning, or rather, taken down to the local tip, after their storage boxes became filled up with rain water during the January 2009 tempest. It seems quite fitting that these angels and their tree were delivered in wet and windy conditions, which deteriorated into tempest like conditions today.
Thank you Laura, for this donation,
I wish you well in your journey forward in life,
and look forward to keeping in touch with news of your new adventures.
Meanwhile, the Christmas Tree and the romping about angels have given the house a cheerful ambience, which is much needed today.
We are now on red alert,
the flooding has continued all the day long,
the winds are bringing down trees, only one so far on our property,
but indoors we are cosy and warm,
so life is good.
so life is good.
Bye for now,