Woken up at some point during the night to the sound of the milk bottles making a two hundred yard dash up the track, clanking and clattering noisily as they went, pushed along by the 6o mph stiff breeze that’s assailing us at the moment, it crossed my mind that having a house at the top of a really steep hill on the moors isn’t always as idyllic as people think.
It’s all a bit Wuthering Heights this morning, grim, cold, windswept and gloomy, with the added bonus of draughty and leaking windows and doors. Romantic location my ars……er……..eye. Our address today is: Grim Manor, Grim Street, Grimsville.
As for the view. Sod the view. There is no view anyway today as it’s so draughty I’ve got all the curtains shut on the windy side of the house to try and preserve some heat. So much for the super duper double glazing.
Never mind, running around un-decking the the halls of their boughs of holly today should keep me warm. I’m just plucking up the courage to go outside and down to the stables to retrieve all the storage boxes for the decorations. I might get blown away. . Glad I don’t have any weddings booked this week. That could be hard work in this weather.
According to the Met Office, Wales is going to be attacked today by a giant orange penis.
Mind you, we’re getting off lightly. Some parts of the country have 95 MPH winds. Including the part of Scotland where my heavily pregnant friend lives, the red bit on the map. Hope she manages not to go into labour for the next few days or that could all get very interesting for her.