Fingers and Toes Crossed

Quite difficult to type like this but I really, really want the electricity to keep coming.  Sorry, but I am back to mumping about the weather again.  It has been diabolical over the last few days – a very dramatic storm about 7.30am on Tuesday morning caused structural damage around the town, brought trees down all over the island and knocked out the electricity.  All we could do was batten down the hatches, sort out the candles and torches and pray the roof stayed on the house.  The worst of this particular gale was over by lunch time, no one seems to have been hurt, our property is intact but the vital flow of electrons didn’t resume until 13 hours later.  It really wasn’t the end of the world – I understand that is expected later this year (by some strange people).  We are quite cosy with a gas fire and a gas hob so had hot food and were kept warm by staying in the one room.  As the height of the storm coincided with high tide the spray was being blown all the way across the road and crashing on ‘our’ pavement – quite entertaining from behind the double glazing.  We didn’t venture out at all, so no photographs, but you can see some of the storm damage at Zak’s Daily Bute.

The electricity was reconnected about one o’clock this morning and lasted until just after breakfast before disappearing again for a further three hours (while we were tucked up in bed and not needing it except for the freezers).  The supermarket has been closed since Hogmanay and the ferries have been off nearly all of that time too so bread and milk supplies were becoming an issue for some people.  Only a couple of the tiny wee newsagent / corner shops have been opened but were depleted of essentials (except fags!).  I had started to ration milk and worry about providing two packed meals for our temporary lodger every day – plenty of cooked and raw main meals in the freezer but no cold meats or fresh fruit for a packed lunch.

Within ten minutes of the electricity returning at noon we broached the horizontal lashing rain and shot along to the supermarket.  We were not alone  – the car park was rapidly filling up and about twenty or so folk were crammed under the shelter of the entrance canopy.  The lights were on inside the shop and a staff member came out and explained it would take at least another 15 minutes to power up the systems and log on the tills and scanners.  I’ve never queued to get into a supermarket before and it was all very jolly.  Eventually when the doors opened everyone rushed in like I’ve seen at Harrod’s Sale on TV.  People quickly calmed down when we saw that there was plenty of bread and milk which were clearly the purchases of choice.

Later, stowing away the fruit and milk I reflected that as a society we are becoming wimps – getting upset when our cushy existence of continuous good quality food and dependable transport is ‘disrupted’.  It wasn’t an earthquake or a tsunami, just a stronger than usual wind, but I do like to flick a switch to get light rather than bumble about wearing a head torch.  Do you think I could uncross my fingers now?