We tend to front out the weather here. Ever since the first winter when someone scoffed ‘well that caravan won’t still be sat on that hill by the end of the winter’ we have had a certain sense of bravado about staying put and proving everyone wrong. We are nothing if not bloody minded sometimes, I do know that…
Also we have always thought that it is better somehow to stay put and know what is happening than to be elsewhere worrying about it. But the storm forecast for last night had all of Rum a bit jittery – in the winter just before we came winds like that had visited the island and blown down over 100 trees in the village. People had been trapped in their houses. It is spoken of with the hushed tones and reverence I had previously only encountered reserved for the Great Storm of 1987. We lost two huge trees and a hedge in our garden in that storm. My school was closed for 2 weeks and one of Ady’s friends actually became a millionaire as  a result of his glazing business having so much work and insurance claim jobs to do. (times like that I realise the age gap between us!)
So we had emails from Ali & Sean saying ‘We are worried, please come and stay with us instead of in your caravan, this is the worst storm forecast since you arrived here’. From Mike & Deb saying ‘Come and stay with us. We have beds, food. And alcohol!’ a message from Sylvia (fellow caravan dweller, ever eloquent) “100 mph winds forecast tonight, if I were ye I’d get the fuck oot o’ that caravan’. And finally from Vikki ‘Come and stay at Lyon Cottage, it will be like a holiday!’. So we did. We packed up stuff for the night and the scant few precious things we have and headed down. It was the monthly community meeting anyway so we went to that and then along to Vikki’s for pizza, the last episode of Sherlock and real beds in a real house.
I slept dreadfully – Ady was snoring, the house was too hot, the storm noises were different groans and creaks to what I am used to in a caravan, the bed is cheap and creaks if you turn over, the pillows were too cardboard-y. Yes, I’m ungrateful 😉
So this morning we headed off back to the croft to see how things had fared. It was pretty scary walking home, encountering Mel, Sean, Eve, Ali, Bad Neil, Manager Mike all with tales to tell of trees down, dead chickens, slates off roofs. As we got closer we realised the polytunnel was damaged, the honesty larder fridge was knocked over as was the bird food bin. The fence was peppered with stuff which had blown across and been caught in it, the horsebox canvas was ripped off and flapping and some of the contents were now outside. But inside, apart from some egg boxes knocked off the kitchen shelf and onto the floor / sink, some stuff off the shelf above our bed now on the bed and a mysterious puddle we think must have been driving rain blown through the poor seal in the window in our bedroom everything was fine.
Amazing.
All the animals are ok too. Not quite sure how we are so unscathed but we are. Earlier this week Ady and I were talking about needing Rum to give one of her infamous signs to her that we are meant to be here and meant to throw the next level of our time, energy, money and passion at life here. This week has certainly given us plenty of signs.
I’d quite like for tonight’s sign to be a little quieter though – we’re back in the caravan, I’m knackered and need to be up for post office in the morning but it’s crazy windy out there again and very noisy.