This week Rachel asks us to tell a story about rain.
Mine’s not a story, but a passage from our life.
We have been lucky in that no matter how heavy the rain, our home has not been flooded.
Sure we had a leaky roof once and a mini Niagara Falls in the lounge, but it got sorted with the minimum of damage.
A few years back, we’d had weeks of dry weather and a hosepipe ban was in place. We were out walking the dog and the skies opened. We danced in the rain as steam hissed off our bodies.
Getting home our smiles turned to concern as our drive was six inches under water. Our door threshold was eight.
We discovered then that our soakaways didn’t, and got working on rectifying the problem the following day by putting in a french drain round the property. Our downpipes from the guttering were laid into piping similar to that used by the farmers, which would take the water away from the house and behind the garage. It worked, and although the drive still flooded to an extent, the water drained away in minutes once the rain stopped.
On the boat, flooding wasn’t an issue. If the water level went up, so did we. OK, the pontoons became pathways across expanses of water at times and we lost the banks behind us as the landscape changed.
The dog walk was also under water and confused Maggie.
Despite all that though, Hubby slept like a baby when it rained.