Monday, 23 November 2009

Wet Wet Wet

The other day Dave remarked on how our forecast watching habits have changed. Pre-Banceithin we’d get up in the morning and accept whatever the weather happened to be that day – checking the forecast religiously was something only Dads did when the family was off on a road trip. Nowadays our daily devotion to the Met Office web site is bordering on obsessive-compulsive. The weather effects our project planning (if it’s raining I’ll be painting indoors, if it’s not raining I’ll be painting outside) and our farm management (if it’s raining I’ll be digging in the polytunnel, if it’s not raining I’ll be digging in the veg plot). Over the last few weeks though, checking the Met Office has been a pointless exercise – every day it’s rainy, windy or cloudy, or more often than not all three. Banceithin is wet and wind battered. The brussel sprouts are growing at a 45 degree angle. Every morning I look out of the bedroom window to see how the distribution of the site debris has changed overnight – the roofing sheets are now by the chicken run, the scraps of insulation foam are randomly scattered across the garden, the cement bucket is  in the middle of the drive. Any day now I’m expecting Kevin Costner to turn up to film Waterworld 2 at the end of our drive. If the new lake by our post box gets any bigger, the Royal Mail will have to issue waders and water wings to our postmen.



The upside of all this wet and stormy weather is that it tests the integrity of our buildings before the builder moves off to another project. The downside is that we now have a leaky chimney, leaky doors and a leaky porch. And a whole lot of mud!


Meanwhile, back in the house, Stevie and Nessa are on, up and in everything. When they’re not tearing around house, they’re having “time out” in the kitchen (also known as the naughty kitten cupboard). Thankfully there’s only 1 week to go until their introduction to the great outdoors. Although I fear that Charlie may have plans for introducing the kittens to some of the deeper puddles without first teaching them how to swim.

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