Storm Ali, arrived today and nearly unannounced or, to better say, it arrived preannounced only by a yellow warning, that in Ireland doesn’t bother anyone.
The beach was extraordinary windy, but we attempted our regular walk as usual.
We managed to reach one end, but when we had to go back, it was impossible to stay on the beach as the sand was violently hitting our faces. The only one who looked not bother at all were the dogs an, in particular, the giant dog that, for the sake of a good chase, was happy out running after the sand blown by the wind.
The only chance to make it to the car was going on the promenade, where walking against the wind was still hard, but at least we limited the amount of sand in our eyes and mouths.
The sky suddenly turned utterly black and soon released a heavy and thick rain. On my way home I had to slalom between tree’s branches and logs fell on the road but, I only discovered Ali’s devastation once I had arrived back.
My back garden was devastated. Most of the pots were smashed and scattered around the yard.
The wind had eradicated the girls’ trampoline from the ground and pushed the patio chairs to the opposite side of the garden, one on top of the other forming a pyramid. The table was miraculously still where I left it, but only because the parasol was holding it down, but it was apparent, it would have lasted long.
So, first I took a picture for the travelling husband conveniently somewhere doing business sipping whiskey in a five-star hotel and then, without losing any more time I immediately removed the parasol and then I took care of the glass on top of the table.
The glass is significant and, and at the very same moment I lifted it, I regretted I didn’t ask my neighbour for help. Unfortunately, now it was too late as the big glass circle was stack under my armpit and any attempt to move it would have ended in its fall and destruction. I had to do it myself. It has not been easy, and I had to try multiple ways to carry it, including rolling it, an option that came to an end when I realised I had steps to do, but at the end, I accomplished my mission. The table glass is now secured in the shed while the table, now lights and free without either parasol or glass on top, had flown into the trampoline that, in the meanwhile, I had managed to bring back in his right standing position.
The rest of the morning I spent it back and forth unsuccessfully trying to keep the damages under control and so at the end I gave up and only take care of moving my roses and tomatoes in a more sheltered spot.
The inside of the house is not less messy as with all this going in and out a carpet of leaves got into my kitchen and in my ensuite as I forgot to close the window before leaving for school drop.
By twelve-thirty I was desperate for a coffee and something to eat before sitting to write for a little except the internet was down and there was no water in the house but nothing to worry about, according to their contact centre both services would have resumed by six in the evening.
By six forty-five there was still no internet and no water.
Now, we could survive without the internet, but without water was hard. I had already used dry shampoo in the morning, and my ears were still staffed with sand from the beach, not to mention that daughter number two went to gymnastics and there was no way I would have sent her to bed without a shower after she has been for one hour in the smelly feet scented gym. Daughter number one might have been the only one who could get away without a shower. She could have just freshened up with a towel and some bottled water and, maybe, using a double dose of her new natural and magical deodorant.
I checked the water tank in the attic, and according to my calculation, we should have had enough water for three very quick showers.
I went first, but although I had the fastest shower in the history, the water had nearly finished. A clear demonstration of my notoriously lousy attitude to math that never fails me. Realistically, we might have had water for a shower and a half. It was now official: daughter number one would have skipped her shower and daughter number two would have had to wash in record time.
Unfortunately, even that forecast was wrong, and before CG could even finish soaping herself, the water was gone. The poor thing had to run naked and with her head full of foam into my shower, where some water was still running, but halfway through the rinse, the water went again. Her last chance was the basin, and after even the last drop of water had run off from the tap with a wholly rinsed head she could eventually slip into her PJs.