Last night, The Girl had a dinner appointment in the city with her former schoolmates, so I drove her to the market town to catch the train with them. On the way there, we noticed a steady outflow of water coming through the garden wall at the gamekeeper’s house and the road was a few inches deep with water. By the time I returned, maybe 40 minutes later, there was a raging torrent. The road was like a river, over a foot deep, and the gamekeeper and his neighbour were up on the bank opposite the row of cottages with torches, obviously trying to decide what to do. I managed to drive through… just. I texted The Girl to get off the train a stop early on her way home, so that I didn’t have to drive that way again. There was flooding in the other direction too, but not as deep or as frightening. I have worried about the cottagers all night.
As it is, my own bedroom floor is awash. The rain is pouring through the gable walls as if our expensive building work had never happened. But I constructed a dam of newspaper, sponges and old towels, and it held overnight. This morning, we retrieved our old newspapers from the recycling bin at the end of the road in preparation for yet another day of rain.
During a brief spell of daylight, FL and I went down to survey his pond. Pretty impressive!
This is our new waterfall, coming into the farm off the main road.
So. Much. Rain.
We got back to the house just before the clouds burst again.
I am just one toe short of Christmas.
Time to knit.