Ann from Oz (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} xaelle) wrote,@ 2005-11-16 09:29:00 |
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Be careful what you wish for
And it rained.
Oh my, my, did it rain. Wonderful pounding on the colourbond as I woke at 2 am to wonder why the front verandah light was on and shining in the bedroom window. (We close the curtains only on winter nights, to keep in the heat, as privacy is not an issue.) Thinking muzzily that I must somehow have turned on the outside house lights when turning off the gatepost light after L got home from the CFA around 9 I staggered out into the kitchen and found him checking for incipient flooding.
Our home has flooded in the past thanks to the 1" of fall between the front and back of the property. This being one of the many cases in life when a mere inch is an amazing thing. Hence the dry creek bed, installed as a matter of some urgency, to divert the water along the side of the house and away towards the back of our little patch of paradise. You can see pics of this in the last entry, the ducks are walking along it and the puddlet where they began their swim is the current terminus after which the water finds its own level: and aims for the garage.
Just behind the garage is the temporary sanctuary for the hen and her 8 little cuties.
Which is why I was to be found standing in the rain, at 2.11am, pointing my torch into their cage and checking to see if any fluff balls were in danger of being swept away by the flow.
(We do have plans to extend the dry creek to the back of the property but the Wild Child's orthodontist beat us to our shekels.)
Currently reading: Nickel and dimed: on (not) getting by in America by Barbara Ehrenreich
Currently listening to: Country of the blind by Christopher Brookmyre (Funny man, clever, biting, equisite turn of phrase. The Pratchett of thrillers.)
And it rained.
Oh my, my, did it rain. Wonderful pounding on the colourbond as I woke at 2 am to wonder why the front verandah light was on and shining in the bedroom window. (We close the curtains only on winter nights, to keep in the heat, as privacy is not an issue.) Thinking muzzily that I must somehow have turned on the outside house lights when turning off the gatepost light after L got home from the CFA around 9 I staggered out into the kitchen and found him checking for incipient flooding.
Our home has flooded in the past thanks to the 1" of fall between the front and back of the property. This being one of the many cases in life when a mere inch is an amazing thing. Hence the dry creek bed, installed as a matter of some urgency, to divert the water along the side of the house and away towards the back of our little patch of paradise. You can see pics of this in the last entry, the ducks are walking along it and the puddlet where they began their swim is the current terminus after which the water finds its own level: and aims for the garage.
Just behind the garage is the temporary sanctuary for the hen and her 8 little cuties.
Which is why I was to be found standing in the rain, at 2.11am, pointing my torch into their cage and checking to see if any fluff balls were in danger of being swept away by the flow.
(We do have plans to extend the dry creek to the back of the property but the Wild Child's orthodontist beat us to our shekels.)
Currently reading: Nickel and dimed: on (not) getting by in America by Barbara Ehrenreich
Currently listening to: Country of the blind by Christopher Brookmyre (Funny man, clever, biting, equisite turn of phrase. The Pratchett of thrillers.)
