Little White Balls and The Tornado

While sitting watching TV last night the wind came up suddenly and with such force the cottage shook and the windows rattled. Cats scattered in all directions and the dog spent five minutes barking. Strangely it seemed to come in from the front of the cottage before switching to a norwesterly which battered us all night. At 3am I got up and listened to something crashing out the back and had convinced myself that the hen house had taken flight before first light finally came.


Part of the roof on the tack shed had lifted so I've placed a small piece of wooden pallet up there to try and hold it down. Couldn't manage a large piece without bursting my Fufu Valve. The chicken house was battered but still standing. The walls had buckled badly and the catch on the door ripped off which accounted for the crashing sound as the door kept slamming itself. The worst damage was the trellis at the side of the cottage (left) which has been blown in against the lemon tree. I can't move it back so will have to wait for someone strong to visit. Grateful the damage wasn't worse I spent five minutes picking up fallen branches off the drive for kindling and just got inside before heavy rain began pelting.

Yesterday I decided to wash Mishka's denim bean bag he sleeps on at night. Put the machine on gentle cycle and headed off to do some housework. When I returned half an hour later there was water on the laundry floor along with dozens of tiny white balls. The denim had ruptured and spilled its guts. Took the whole thing out half dry and sewed the holes shut and dried the bag on the clothes airer in front of the fire for the day. Now I am living with the aftermath of little white polystyrene balls which I can't flush out of the washing machine. They get everywhere and stick with grim determination as if they have minds of their own. Mish's beds are a constant concern as he now needs something soft as he gets stiffer in the hips with increasing age (don't we all!). If he lies on the floor he seems to have to psych himself up to get back on his feet which can take a while. You need your home comforts when you get older and that's for sure.