As I was writing this I realised that it was very long, and the first half was about the literal storm, and the second half was about a metaphorical storm, so I’ve split it into two sections.
The literal storm.
An interesting week in the Glen! Storm Éowyn barrelled through on Friday 24th January and left devastation in its wake in many ways.
Kathryn was due to arrive on Friday but she had seen the storm on the news and wisely decided to see what it would bring before setting off.
Friday morning, early, I got a text to say not to come in to work - the weather was already exerting it’s dominance over the landscape, howling round the house to the point where certain gusts made me involuntarily duck in case the roof came off or something. So I set about painting the living room with the paint I had bought from the closing down sale at Homebase the previous weekend in Leamington. It took all day to do two coats of edging round the room, except for behind the super-heavy sideboard which I didn’t try to move on my own. At about midday the power went down followed, 5 minutes later, by the 4G service from the nearby mast. I was in a communication blackout and couldn’t even check for updates on when things might be restored.
All was fine, and even a bit of a ‘make-do’ adventure… until it got dark at 5pm. Then, trying to conserve batteries and candles and heat was not so fun. I lit a big candle I had from Christmas many years ago, brought plenty of fire wood in from the garage, which was pitch-black and a bit creepy in the torch beam, and tried not to use my phone to read on. Thankfully the AGA survived the storm and gave me some heat, tea, toast and reheated dinner.
That evening was fine - I read by torch light for a few hours, discarded 3 of the books I started, finally settling on Archangel by Robert Harris. At 10pm I headed to bed as the fire had dried my eyes and nostrils out. The room was cold but the duvet and brushed cotton sheet are so warm that I slept well.
Saturday I started rollering. Frustratingly the cheap roller sleeves I had bought in the same sale did not fit my roller, so I ended up doing the first coat on the walls using the radiator roller - slow but still a nice finish. Unsure of whether Kathryn was coming up today, as I still had no service on my phone, I tried to make as little mess as possible. I kept the fire going all day to try and keep some heat in the house. I closed the doors of rooms I wasn’t using but the corridor remained no warmer than 14.5 degrees. The living room was toasty though and I listened to music as I worked. At 11am I popped round to Heather and Dave’s for coffee and catchup and was not at all surprised to hear the grumble of a backup generator! Their lounge was warm and it was if nothing was out of the ordinary. And, they had internet! Not sure how but it meant I could download all my messages, ping off some replies to let people know I was ok and download some podcasts for later. The update from Heather was that it would be Monday evening at the earliest when power would be restored.
I knew I was very short on food - having returned from Leamington late on Wednesday the fridge was empty. I had bought a few bits from Kames store on Thursday, and Kathryn was bringing supplies. There were no messages from her though, and no answer when I rang. Heather said the road to Dunoon (and Morrisons) was closed as there was a power line down so I decided that, as I also needed petrol, I would drive to Strachur and stock up on fuel and food there. I knew I didn’t want too much though, as the fridge was off and the freezer would be slowly defrosting over the next couple of days. I took a couple of still frozen leftovers boxes out of the freezer and put them in the fridge to try and stop the milk from turning.
I headed out to Strachur only to get a mile down the road at the north end of the Glen and find a tree across it. Reversing up, I left the Glen at the south end, passing several patches of branch debris on the road, and two trees that had fallen and been sawed up to get them off the road. There were lots of small trees down and pushed aside along the 12 miles, and a nasty surprise at one point where (at 50mph) I noticed a telegraph wire lying directly across the tarmac. Luckily it was flat enough to pass over, but for a heart stopping moment I did panic that it would get caught in the tyres and flip me over. It was carnage for the first few miles but Strachur itself seemed untouched.
Petrol and supplies selected, and seeing as they had power, I got my phone out to pay and realised that at some point on the drive some more messages had come in: somewhere along the route there was 4G. On the drive back I pulled into a lay-by with several other cars, probably all doing the same thing and internet surfing off the only signal for miles around.
Sunday morning the hallway was 12.5 degrees when I got up so I got a fire lit and the sun was out a bit and the Glen looked pretty. I cracked on with the painting with a couple of podcasts to keep me entertained. By the time I lost the light the whole room had one coat except behind the sideboard, and it looked good. The AGA was starting to struggle to maintain temperature in the cold and the kettle was taking an age to boil. I had to boil it to wash my hair, do the washing up or make hot drinks. The sausages in the top freezer drawer were soft so I got them out to cook. Other things were hanging on in there but chunks of ice had fallen off the top surface into the drawer so it was starting to defrost at pace now.
By Sunday night there was still no sign of Kathryn with her food supplies, my battery pack for recharging my phone was flat and the laptop battery was low. Worse than that, a sense of hopelessness was creeping back in and I found myself re-reading the notes John had left for me over the last year: from the days immediately after his operation and diagnosis, to the poems he wrote in the last month before end-of-life care began. It felt a folly, but perhaps I have been avoiding an appropriate amount of reflection recently, and thus delaying my grieving and coming to terms process. One of the notes John left is titled Good Things You Must Do When I Am Gone. Along with ‘Go back to the Outer Hebrides’ and ‘Talk to people’ is ‘Not give up - you have the gift of time that I do not, please don’t squander it’. The weight of this responsibility suddenly felt insurmountable and I was overcome with sadness once again. Whilst I want so much to be true to my promise to John to live the life he cannot, he will thankfully never know how the loss of the love of your life renders everything else so completely pointless.
Monday morning dawned bright and sunny. I got the fire going, made coffee with my stove top percolator and had a knock from Hosshin to check in on me and deliver some fresh eggs - yum! I popped to Heather and Dave’s to see if they had any updates and found about 40 messages on my phone! Work is on this afternoon as the power might be restored to Tighnabruaich at lunchtime, so I best prepare myself in good time and let the fire die down before I leave. Fingers crossed we are back to normal by tonight as last might was so cold I had two layers of everything on in bed to keep warm!
(Power was restored at 9.50pm Monday night and now I FINALLY know who won The Traitors!!)
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