On Monday afternoon - a hot Bank
Holiday - I noticed that people were running from the beach and the Green. It had suddenly begun to monsoon - torrents
coming down - the balcony awash in minutes - all the BBQs on the Green extinguished. And one of our geraniums was swimming desperately in its pot which
had turned into a lake.
The phone rang. It was Captain Moth to tell me he was on his
way home from the savage wilderness of Hampshire (another detectorist
day). As I picked up the phone, there
was the loudest clap of thunder I have heard. I saw no lightning but there must
have been a strike as on that instant my internet went down, and when the
Captain came home he found he could not open his garage door. And the next day we found that it had put
all the lifts out!
The Internet engineer doesn't
come till Thursday - when I hope to be able to publish this blog. Monday was a Bank Holiday, which does not
help.
Jacks rang as soon as I had
put the phone down on the Captain to say how scary it all was. It was a very violent storm.
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