Sunday 15 November
It’s really felt like the day after, the day before. We woke to torrential rain and strong wind battering our bedroom window. It makes a lively sound whilst lying in bed, climbing out of my metaphorical pit of sleep.
But with it came a leak through the window seal dripping on the downstairs floor. Nothing that can’t be sorted in the spring when we get the house painted, but a pain nevertheless. This was followed by a phone call from our next-door neighbour to say the water level was high in her loo, meaning I had to go outside and rod the drains. I’ve got pretty good at that over the years.
Country living, in a house that has been extended and adapted multiple times. But I don’t want to leave it to move anywhere else. The kids were born whilst we have lived here, they have grown up here. No other houses looking over us, or any chance of any being built. Living up a pot-holed lane that leads only to our houses and the Hall. It’s hard to think of giving it up.
It’s raining again right now, but we had a brief couple of hours window just after midday when we were able to get out and walk Mabel. All five of us out in the fresh air. I so needed that.
Dad came over today, as did Lisa’s mum and Bar. Whilst outside, two different times, I as distracted by a muder of crows dancing in the wind in the ploughed field opposite our house. They seem to be doing nothing else but be having fun. Swirling and dosey-doing across and in-between eache other. I counted around twenty, last week I only saw half of that.
The Bald Birder 