My outings go something like this. The local co-op for garden, hen and vegetable supplies. The food store for well, food. The local garden centre for garden plants and local eateries for a treat. Oh and of course my local GP’s surgery.
My husband drives me to the places furthest from us and I drive to the closer outlets, enjoying those brisk moments of complete independence.
Rarely am I seen in all of these establishments within the course of a month or even two month period. Pacing being my key.
Along with outings, visitors are also restricted in this household.
Then last week happened.
It rained and it rained and it rained. To the point where the poor little river across from our home became a raging torrent. A torrent which reached capacity and began dumping water out over a ditch and onto the road. The road, bless her, had to take the flood somewhere and so decided to flow in our front gates.
Within minutes, our drive went from having a few puddles to becoming a rising moving stream of water. And our garden morphed into a sodden sponge. Great fun.
Minutes after that our back garden, no longer able to rid itself of excess water began dumping water behind our shed and soon flooded our sewage system.
Within 45 minutes we had neighbours visit and council workers and the councils head engineer. There were shovels and later a digger to divert the flow outside our wall.
A wad of fun.
Thankfully the rain stopped, the river got her wanted reprieve and the flooding began to recede. Of course our story wasn’t done. Thinking ahead, sand was ordered, sandbags were ordered and filled oh and of course there were leaky wellies that needed replacing. And so I found myself in lots of local establishments. And all within the course of a number of days. Needless to say, I’ve slept and slept and slept since