Well, crikey, did it rain today. It started in the small hours, tippy-tapping against the sash window just as I was turning in, which meant I slept like a baby. The next morning, however, the gentle rattle of raindrops that soothed me to sleep had transformed into a full-blown monsoon, a monsoon that then went on to last literally the whole day. And I mean the whole day. I think other than maybe a few moments of calm for the clouds to catch their breath, it hammered down all day long.
The cause of this never-ending torrential downpour was Storm Claudia. It makes me laugh how they name storms, giving them names like “Desmond” or “Doris”. I think they should name them depending on what they’re going to bring with them. We could have “Storm going to blow your bins over” or “Storm, say goodbye to the trampoline” or, in the latest installment of silly named storms, “Storm, You’re definitely going to need a boat.”
Now usually I love the rain, as I may have mentioned. I love a warm sunny spring day; I even love the odd hot day, provided I have somewhere with air conditioning to retreat to. But the second the heavens open, I’m immediately happy. I love the smell of Petrichor, I love the sound of the pitter-patter as the raindrops rattle against the window, and I love the sound of the raindrops against the top of the car. Have you ever been in a tent in a rainstorm? It puts me to sleep quicker than a bottle of Whisky whilst sitting by a cracking fire. I love the rain in a city as well; there’s something almost romantic about a city at dusk, just as the lights are coming on. Maybe it’s just me.
Today, however, even I’ll admit this is too much rain. I mean, don’t get me wrong, after the dry year we’ve had, all the reservoirs and lakes were definitely glad to see the rain, but then it went on to cause massive flooding. The flooding has been a real issue on the roads, causing tailbacks and even accidents where people tried to avoid splashing in a puddle whilst driving their massive SUV which they must not want to get wet or something, onto the other side of the road into oncoming traffic.
The flooding on the roads had an unwanted effect on my car as well. Because I live in the middle of nowhere, the back roads are full of miniature ponds from random dips in the road and never-ending potholes, I have very little option but to drive through flooded parts. Now for an estate car, my Hyundai handles these floods amazingly well, charging through a foot of water whilst the SUV drivers tiptoe around the edges of these small lakes. But this does have an effect on the brakes in that they simply stop working, which meant that when I then needed to slow down to go through another flood, the car didn’t want to know. I was already aware of this issue, though, having discovered the lack of any brakes the first time I took the car to the jet wash, where after getting in and driving off, the brakes didn’t want to respond when I went to slow down for the junction. To get around this, you just float on the brakes a little, getting them to heat up, drying them out, but it’s still terrifying.
Another issue I'm having with the rain is the fact that the second I step outside, my vision is reduced to a moody bokeh-style photo taken through a pane of glass. Because I’m a glasses wearer, any sort of rain immediately renders my glasses useless, and taking them off means I can’t see where I’m going because, well, I need my glasses. It’s like walking around with two tiny window panes on my face, which seem to be able to attract raindrops even on a dry day. I need some wipers on them or something.
The rain is also playing havoc with the eight-hundred-odd-year-old house I live in. Now don’t get me wrong, I do like living in an old house; it’s soaked in history and even has one of those blue plaques outside, which I should add has the unwanted side effect of attracting tourists who stop to read it, making them jump when I open the front door before glaring at me, amazed that someone actually lives in this house. But there are also a lot of downsides. The single-pane sash windows are a pain in the bum, letting all the wind and rain and nature into the house. The storms have also played havoc with the old roof as well, meaning that all the roof tiles have slipped down one side of the house, and now the rain can get in. We’ve known for a while we’ve had the odd leak here and there and some damp on the outside wall, but thanks to today’s rain, we’ve learnt that actually, we live in a sieve. Albeit a beautiful sieve that's rich in history.
I do still love the rain, and it was nice to finally have a decent downpour to fill everything back up. and I need to get some wipers for my glasses.