Blowing in the Wind…

I haven’t watched The News yet today.

I feel so thankful that I’m not in it.  

So far this year I’ve experienced howling gales, lashing seas, flooded homes and businesses, stranded cars, overturned lorries, upside down waterfalls (on Mull), furious whirlpools, ferries cancelled, bridges closed, flying roofs and fallen trees – all from the comfort of my own home. My personal discomforts? Picking up the lid of my blue bin and the pieces of a smashed plant pot. I can quickly find an extra layer of clothing to put on when the howling wind forces its way through hitherto unrevealed cracks and disturbs my comfort or the draught causes me to stretch out for the fleecy throw to protect my cooling knees. I might even have had to turn up the heating  and make myself another wee cuppa to help me endure the chaos I can hear outside, chaos over which I have no control.images.png Continue reading

I must admit….

I feel guilty – again! Yesterday I was rather flippant about ‘Desmond’ but I was focused on the name and not on the devastating storm itself. To see your home/business/property consumed by incessant rain, overflowing rivers and drains, streams of mud and filth and know that recent history is repeating itself, is heartbreaking. ‘Lessons will be learned’ – if I have heard this saying once, in the past twenty years, I’ve heard it a hundred times. After every devastating event or trauma, it seems to me that political sticking plasters are stretched over wounds that require deeper, more intensive surgery. We seem to be able to plan and build the most complex of motorway systems yet our lesser roads remain undulating patchworks of rubble and tarmac. Bring back the Romans! They knew how to build roads, dig ditches, sink drains. Speaking of drains, I shudder to think what lies beneath our terra (un)firma and ‘passes’ as a twenty first century drainage system. 
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