Grounded

The moth that died with its wings extended

The photo shows a moth I found on the outside of the glass pane of our back door.

It appears to have become stuck fast and died in the act of trying to fly.

Its wings are rigid with the attempt to lift its bulky body clear of the surface.

I could be wrong about it – there’s no reason why the window should be sticky. But it’s an allegory for a human situation at the same address.

The moth achieved its wish posthumously: the gale that blew up today has finally detached it and whirled it away.

Indecision

Pruning equipment (the alcohol is for cleaning it)

The weather couldn’t decide what to do today.

It rained, drizzled, hailed, thundered and blew a gale all in the space of a couple of hours, as well as the sun shining brightly for a few minutes.

This afternoon, snow fell in huge flakes and I thought we were about to be blanketed in it for sure and unable to go and pay the electricity bill, when it just stopped.

In the brief interlude of sunshine, I rushed outside and managed to prune one tree, a rather unproductive greengage.

One tree out of the 43 in the orchard is hardly zipping along, but I like to weigh up carefully which branch or twig I lop off.

Clive frequently tells me I’ve developed indecision to a fine art.

An ill wind

Yesterday morning I spent a happy half hour or so in my dressing gown anchoring down a flapping corner of the pool tarpaulin.

It now has, weighing it down, a supremely heavy concrete kerb (hidden under the folds in the photo), 2 pieces of heavy concrete coping, some plant tubs full of rubble, an old paint tub filled with stones and water, and a log.

Several of these items, including the log, are extra to what there was before so it had better not DARE to come loose again.

The new hopefully windproof arrangement

Today I was walking near the house with the dogs when suddenly the tarpaulin which had been covering the blue pig flew up in the air and nearly took off.

Rather than battle with it in the teeth of the gale, I pinned it on the ground with a wooden pallet.

I noticed that the pipe which is taking the spring water to the blue pig (and thence to the pond) was all disjointed and water was flying out of the joints on the wind.

A stop-gap arrangement

However, given that the pipe into the pond is still running full bore plus there’s water coming out of the top of the blue pig itself, the pipes are obviously managing to pass along a good part of their load.

Bearing in mind the adage ‘If it ain’t broke don’t fix it,’ I’ve let them be for now!

High wind

Of all extreme weathers I most hate the wind.

Tonight there’s possibly the worst gale I’ve ever known, and bear in mind that our first house in Italy was on a road called ‘Windy Hill’.

The wind is howling and screeching in the angle of the house, ready to hurl in a vortexful of leaves as soon as you open the door.

It feels like a very personal enemy.

The various tubs, buckets, blocks, marble slabs etc weighing down the tarpaulin of the pool are not proving man enough. The buckets have fallen over and spilt the rubble that was in them, and the wind has got under the tarpaulin and is arching its back and fighting like a trapped beast. It sounds like a giant bird flapping its wings.

The broken lantern

I’m nearly knocked over by its force as I scrabble to right the buckets, re-fill and re-deploy them, over and over again.

In the end, only the heavy concrete lintels we ordered for building the indoor pool steps save the day. Without their extra weight, I could have envisaged the tarpaulin taking off like a magic carpet, carrying on its back all the rainwater that has fallen on it all season.

Something is slamming against the wall outside. It proves to be one of our lanterns which has been torn off its supporting screws and is dancing on the end of its electrical wires. We cut it free but its back-plate is damaged beyond repair.

One of our heavy wooden garden benches has been thrown onto its back. I leave it there in case it gets knocked over again.

The lights, the stove, the computers and the television go on and off, on and off, all evening.

Give me rain, snow, drought, but not wind.