Wednesday, 18 April 2012

The old man is snoring

It has been raining and raining. The drains are having trouble coping. Water has been coming into the house through small openings in the windows. The drains can't empty quickly enough, because of all the water rushing down the streets past my house and into the drains out the front.

Generally this area fares quite well when inclement weather strikes. Eastern and western suburbs suffer far more severely. Years ago there was a violent hail storm and lots of roofs and car windscreens  got totally smashed, and blue plastic festooned many roofs for months thereafter. Our little suburb was relatively untouched. I take comfort in the power of statistics. Perhaps this is unwise and imprudent.

Some water did get into my bedroom, as I had not completely closed the window. This evening I watched the TV news and saw lots of people who had to wade towards their swamped cars and whose roads were flooded. Here it just rushed down the hills.  We have periods when the rain stops and then the heavenly tap is turned on from above and water gushes forth. The dams are almost 100 per cent full.

I prowl around the house, checking that disaster is not striking me personally. In respect of the weather, that is. I have had quite enough disaster in my life, I say to myself, so, Life, so, Fate, just lay off, ok? Let me be.

My daughter is back overnight. We went out to dinner tonight, just up the road, and sat at a table outside, with a gas heater next to us, and with blankets provided to keep us snugly warm. It is only autumn and the climate is quite temperate. But the rain pelted down. See, it said, some things are quite outside human control. There was a certain fascination in watching its inexorable fall from the heavens.

The meal was good and then we struggled home, a whole block and a half away, and our shoes and feet got soaked as we waded through the back door entry.

I am smitten by urges to get things done and to be in charge of my life. Yet again I have been going through the books and have managed to find quite a few which can find new homes and perhaps eager readers. I look at each book and decide whether or not I still have the curiosity to get through it, not to mention the necessary powers of concentration. I want to reorganise rooms, to get rid of stuff, to make it all my own, to be in charge of my life. It is not possible to control the weather, but perhaps the contents of the house can be disciplined and controlled. I have to tell myself, softly, softly, catchee monkey. Not everything can be done in one go. More's the pity. I can see the advantages of waving the magic wand. Magari, if only, I wish, would to God, say the Italians.

There are many balls in the air around me.

1 comment:

VioletSky said...

purging is a perfect activity to occupy oneself during a rainstorm.
unless one needs to soak up incoming water.
here's hoping you are spared andy flood damage.