March Mayhem

The rain continued on into March. The rain continues on into March. The rain will very likely, most probably, perhaps certainly, continue on into March.

Four storms within a couple of weeks, dumping copious amounts of water onto our tiny rock of granite stuck in the English Channel. The peak was during the night of March 4th, where we awoke the following day to flooding.

My commute - normally 25 minutes - took 50, as I had to turn back twice before finding a lane which was not barred by a deep pond. (I may have stopped for a few minutes to photograph and film. Who wouldn't?) The first one, at the bottom of Donkey Hill, was a flooded valley, water stretching up across the fields as far as the eye could see. There was a handy abreveur situated there, manfully doing its best to channel water safely into an underground douit, but it was outclassed. The water was so deep that I didn't dare expose the electrics on the bicycle. I did, eventually, sail through a relatively shallow puddle, holding my breath and coasting across gently. To have turned around would have added yet another ten minute ride.

Meanwhile, at home, the flooded vege patch/firewood stack had spread all the way across the far side of the garden, the patio around the shed boasting an inch of water. The ground had been soggy for weeks but this was the last straw. Or the last few hundred gallons, I suppose. There was absolutely nowhere for the water to drain and it was, in any case, being topped up by water flowing from the (slightly higher) field next door.

My neighbour, Dear Nicky Next Door, started pumping out her well in the hope that the ground water would then flow into it. Richard went out and bought a pump, dug a trench and sank it into the ground. (We have great plans to dig a soakaway so that we are more prepared next time and can start to pump water before it gets to surface aka crisis level.) It took a couple of days, but the level in the flower beds started to subside, the water disappearing although the soil was still soggy. I fear for my little apple tree... the camellias, the pittosporum and the hydrangeas... but will just have to Wait And See.

We had a slight 'discussion' as to whether the dehumidifier, or leaving the shed wide open to the drying wind, was the best way of drying out the shed before it started to rot. Compromised for a bit of both.

Then we paused, and waited for the rain to stop.

Meanwhile, at school... parents' evenings looming; parents taking their children out of school on holiday, with an hour's notice, in one case; parents voicing their opinions. Sometimes, all those years of professional training and experience, not to mention successfully parenting two wonderful human beings, seems irrelevant and I obviously (in some quarters) really do not have anything to say about how A Particular Child is best taught. Hmmm.

March mayhem? Indeed. But 'in like a lion, out like a lamb'. Spring is most definitely coming as flowers start to erupt on the grassy banks. Celandines flood yellow everywhere I look; primroses stud the banks; violets hide in the hedgerows.

Then, of course, the mayhem rapidly accelerated as Covid-19 took over. Have documented thoughts elsewhere, but by the end of the month we were almost self-isolating, with a lockdown imposed by Guernsey. Not to mention Jonny and Adele occupying our newly-created tiny 'guest wing'. I'm quite proud of the lovely little suite of rooms I have created...

So, here we are. The days are getting longer - in many ways. The sun is brighter: and we try to stay bright, trusting that God will bring about great good and His glory in an overwhelmed, panic-stricken, helpless world.