Last night was brutal! The wind threw repeated heavy gusts at the house and rain also deluged at regular intervals during the night. I was reminded of those immortal words of the poet, Dylan Thomas
Do not go gently into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Well, given I'd no intention of passing into the hereafter, my raging was directed at the conditions and the way in which they prevented sleep! Sure, I raged, but the night of turbulence carried on. This morning a look in the bathroom mirror saw an apparition more resembling Father Jack than Father Ted ( you've got to have seen the series to appreciate this ) and I felt somewhat evil!! The wind still blew, the bins were flung across the yard several times until I put them in the barn and news came of a plane blown off the runway on Stornaway. Not a day that was going to produce much I thought. In reality two occasions out locally were rewarded with nothing . Not a bird, how's that for a record!
So I wrote a couple of things for the Blog and am now signing off with conditions beginning to improve ( a bit! ).
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