Storm Bram

[smokingboot]

They are talking of winds reaching 80mph in some areas of Scotland. Here nothing so bad, no trees fell or roof tiles flew but everything seemed mighty pushed. I went out into the garden last night, when the worst of it was over. Never have I heard the wind sound as close to Boromir's words, “Let those call it the wind who will; there are fell voices on the air.' Often to me it sings or growls or roars but last night it was spectral, so many of the lost or neverpeople calling. It chilled the blood. I tried not to think the storm aptly named, and failed.

We brought in our Xmas outdoor ornaments and wreath, the latter knocking frantically against the door. Now I am trying to fix the bit that was broken. Our three garden swans were stowed in the garage, and alas, Mama Swan now has a snapped cable; she can't light up and I don't know how to fix that either. I think she may just be knackered. Papa Swan and cygnet seem jolly enough but we have a friend joining us for whom this might be a bit on the nose. Or I am being oversensitive. Maybe I should just buy more swans.

It's nearly 10.30, and I'm ready for a mince pie. I have not completed one single thing I set out to do this morning.