So for the last three days it has been blowing a hooley; and I mean, A HOOLEY.
A storm and strong winds were forecast for Saturday, but there was no mention of it carrying through until the early hours of Tuesday!
My poor little house is on top of a very large hill, and the wind has been crashing and bashing around it for the past three days. “Just to warn you, you are on a hill and it can get quite windy up here.” Said my lovely Immoblier (estate agent) ; she was not kidding!!
Since living here we have been hit by hurricane Katie in March, which took half of the kitchen roof off, a tornado in September, which finished a massive part of the kitchen roof off, which is now covered in tarp (you all know the story, seriously, don’t get insured with Allianz!) And now The Hooley, as I am going to officially name it.
For three days the wind whipped and battered the house, raindrops hit the windows with such venom I started to wonder if it was the fairies, angry with Rich for strimming their homes last year! When we wound down the shutters, bless the shutters because they really help keep the house warm, they shook and rattled like some huge giant was outside, demanding to come in.
Because my house stands alone you could hear the wind whipping around it, searching for any crack or orifice it could find to come into the house. And with my house, it does not have to look far!
I lay in bed on Sunday night, alone because Rich is at a friends house, and listened to the storm and yes I worried (I know, I tell you all not to, but it is so indoctrinated in us to worry about things that you don’t even know have happened, that it is a hard habit to break; but, normally I can beat it, just not this Sunday. Perhaps because the storm was so long and so relentless.)
I could hear a banging noise; at first I thought that it was the door to our goats shed (no we don’t have goats, and it would be a large shed to you, but because the goats lived in it when we viewed the house it is , affectionately, known as ‘the goats shed’! ) but realised that it sounded too close for it to be that,it sounded as it it was on the roof, or something to do with the house.
Now, given the problems we have had so far with the roof you can understand why I immediately started to think, “Oh no! There’s something else gone wrong with the roof!” And that was it, I started to imagine all types of things: Like the chimney pot waiving in the wind, slamming down hard on the roof every time a gust blew, or the old ariel (something that we don’t even bloody need) waiving about like a banshee with her arms flailing in the wind, and every time she swept over the roof she took ten tiles with her. The cow!
So you know how it goes, I then lay there waiting for the next bang. Why? It was not like I was going to go out in the middle of ‘The Hooley’ in the rain and sleet, climb up on the roof with some bricks and a trowel and fix it! Bob the Builder I am not! So what was the point in laying there awake waiting for the next bang? I put into place all the things that I have learnt, told myself off for imagining things when I did not know if they were there, asked myself what is the point of staying awake; but every time I dozed off the bloody thing banged and I woke up. Add to that the Welshies also woke up and started to run up and down the stairs like a pair of lunatics barking, a joyous nights sleep I did not have.
The next morning up I got, had my first cup of tea (everything can wait until I have my first cup of tea.) and could bear it no longer. I put on my trusty welligogs
I know, they have flowers and everything! Very Kath Kidson, and if I could afford it I do like a bit of Kath!
On went the waterproof jacket, and I armed myself with a pair of vintage binoculars that had been given to us (I know! If I am going to walk around my garden in a hooley, I am going to do it in style!!)
Off I went with the Welshies, who were so excited that mummy was coming out in the rain to play with them. I looked at the roof from the front of the house, the chimney pot was in it’s rightful place. Sadly though the kitchen roof had taken another battering and now had another hole in it above the tarpaulin we had already put up (sods law!)
I walked up the Chemin, and onto our field behind our barn and looked at the back of the roof, nothing, the banshee ariel (now only an ariel in the cold light of day!) was in it’s rightful place and nothing was amiss. So what was bloody banging?
Husband came home to make sure that wifey was okay, and off he went round the garden, in a scabby looking fleece, and a knackered pair of tracksuit bottoms (tell me why?)The welshies went with the daddy the tramp which helped to raise the tone, but daddy the tramp could find nothing. When he came in he asked “Did you check the loft hatch?”
Now because you cannot really get up there I forgot that we had a loft, and there it was the bloody loft hatch, banging away every time the wind blew. I should have followed the Tao, I should not have kept myself awake for something that did not exist!
The Hooley finally left us for pastures new early hours of this morning, and off I went again in my stylish outfit to check the roof again (I think I am becoming obsessed) and the good news is there is no further damage, although we won’t go into the roof on the barn because that was on death row anyway!
Catch up soon, and if you like my blog please share with others.