Mama's: Ferocious February

Saturday 29 February 2020

Ferocious February

Flu, floods and friends...

There has been a harshness, an unkindness about February which I don’t usually experience... after all, every month has its days of joy. The weather, though expected cold, is not usually such an issue...

This month, though, the fierceness assailed me from other quarters.

Well into the term, I succumbed to ‘flu’. Not real flu, of course – nor the coronavirus which is menacing the world with the threat of a pandemic – but a fluey type cold. Enough to sap me of energy and leave me feeling so unwell that I stayed off school first one day one week, then two days the second week. A lesson not to return to work too quickly...and the feelings of malaise lingered on for the first half of the month.

The weekends were punctuated with storms: gales, wind, rain...one Saturday afternoon was spent adjusting the motorhome cover as the wind threatened to tear it off. We added straps, winding around and down, eventually securing them to my little Micra: then stood, watching the motorhome withstand the strong southerly wind. It was a relief when the wind swung round to the west: the house protected it and the cover settled back down with a sigh of relief. It had looked uncannily like a charging bull elephant.

How to survive Gale Force 10...

That wasStorm Ciara, bringing rain and the threat – and, in some places, actuality – of flooding.

Barely had Ciara left when the next weekend heralded the arrival of Storm Dennis. Huge winds on the preceding Thursday, a brief lull on the Friday and then returning in full force for the weekend. Ferries and flights were cancelled...except ours, fortuitously booked for the Friday. We were able to travel across to the UK with the motorhome on a relatively calm sea. Our journey up to Doncaster to see Phil and Judy looked to be ‘interesting’. To avoid the worst of the gales – 50mph was forecast – we left just after 6, experiencing only a little rain and empty roads. Saturday morning traffic, with a populace warned not to travel unless absolutely necessary, made it an amazingly easy journey.

Not the return, though. After collecting the vehicle from CamperUK in Lincoln, where it had been treated for a little damp due to the outer seals needing redoing, we had a long journey down, hitting the inevitable traffic jams around Oxford, after Southampton and into Poole. Dark by the time we arrived at the ferry terminal for our overnight stop. Little respite.

Lincoln. Always a pleasure. This is the Jew's House, built around 1150... Amazing.

Because the weather had not abated. The winds had dropped to moderately strong, but still brought unprecedented amounts of rain. One area had had a month’s rainfall in 24 hours; flooding was widespread as rivers burst their banks and the sodden earth could absorb no more moisture, leaving wide expanses of fields and agricultural land under water. So many ponds and little lakes...The ferry crossing the following day was....interesting. Force 7/8 winds and a big swell gave a more uncomfortable ride than usual, though glimpses of tiny puffins and majestic gannets were rewarding.

Flooding near Oxford

Brownies Island as we sailed out of Poole Harbour

Leaving Dorset for home... looking stunning.

Yet all of this, while devastating for many, barely touched us. Truly devastating news was that our dear friend Stan had died in a tragic accident on February 15^th, while on a visit to his daughter and family in Thailand^,. It was, and is, unbelievable: an event of such ferocity in its unexpectedness that it has left me breathless. It is so completely shocking. Outrage, anger, disgust – all seem mild expressions here: this good man has been ripped from his loving family and friends well before his time. He had only recently celebrated his 64^th birthday...

I write much of Stan, separately, trying to process the news. I think constantly of his family. Numb, sick, grieving. I feel such pain for them. After the initial shocking news, social media goes quiet. There is such a void. Words useless.

So, February, in many ways you were not my friend. Yet still I can be grateful: for family and good friends; for laughter, celebration, opportunity; for safe travel, a safe and comfortable place to live. Some of the moments where I have stopped to look around me...