Last night it rained all night. Hard. Olive wasn't feeling well, so she and I slept on the couch in the loungeroom so as not to wake up Oski and Pearl. Needless to say, not much sleeping was going on in our flat-roofed house - the rain was so loud!! Made louder, I'm sure, by the anxiety surrounding the safety of our beloved strawbales.
This morning Frank emerged from his bedrom, late, still in his pyjamas, putting to rest any fantasies we had about going to work on the house today. The best we could manage was an hour or so making sure all the quagmire-y bog-puddles could drain freely, and adding about 50m of black plastic to our coverage attempts. Our little tiny house now looks like something Christo lost interest in halfway through. Many tears were shed this morning as I counted our losses, but then all was put into perspective when Peps pointed out that the whole situation was probably like the Somme, our little house being like a French peasant's house that had been partially blown to bits. But of course it's not like that at all because we haven't lost our house (just a few bales, and some insulation) and no-one was approaching us with guns and/or bayonets. All plusses.
Also, when we returned home from the house-wrapping, mum and Jen were ready with egg and ham rolls with Pearl's homemade tomato sauce. We are surrounded by the people we love (all congregated cozily in the loungeroom now, reading and doing crosswords and chatting quietly), so it's kind of just like a wait-for-the-rain-to-end party. Frank's gone home for now, as the rain is forecast for a few more days, but he's on call for the minute the rain clears.
Now, we wait, enjoying each others' company and reminding each other to look on the bright side.