My storm story, with extra exclamations!

PHEW! We took some battering, didn’t we? I counted my blessings: the roof stayed over my head, I was without power for a few days, and I’d pre-emptively stocked up on water.

A mere month ago I wrote my New-Year column: Storms, they don't last forever. The irony is, the effects of that big-one seem to be lasting forever for the unfortunate many who are still without power, water, and/or have considerable damage to property.

The storm woke me a little after midnight with a strong sustained wind howling around the house. ‘It’s arrived,’ I told myself, surprised. The weather people said it would hit around 6am; but the starter was served early. I got up and stayed up, distracting myself with Squid Game Season 2 on Netflix. But the power cut midway through episode three, thrusting the house into darkness. I was glad of the Yankee-Candles my sister Maria, hoarded.

It was around 5:30am when the storm served its main course round my way. The sustained winds were joined by powerful gusts that punched hard and hit incessantly. Hearing something fly off at the back of the house, I ran out to see the lid of the oil tank missing. By the light of my phone I saw it hovering like a UFO, before taking off round the front of the house.

Fearing imminent rain, I leaned into the savage wind to salvage it. But, rounding the gable of the house I was hit with a gust that thrust me off my feet and launched me skywards. Luckily, I landed on my feet. Back on solid asphalt, I crawled to the tank top and secured it back on, minutes before rain arrived – RELIEF!

As the night’s darkness gave way to daylight, I clearly saw the dark days ahead. I watched one distant electricity pole in its final throes as it gave up the ghost and keeled over. My house looks down onto the bypass and, in the distance, an approaching car’s lights caught my eye. I stood to watch a single vehicle sway and roll up the bypass like a vulnerable tug boat battling up the river Erne in the eye of the storm!

When the red warning turned orange, I wind-wabble-walked into town to charge my phone and laptop. On the Cootehill road, a downed tree had taken a street light with it; I crossed the road fearing it could be live and – LETHAL!

I arrived at the coffee shop, wherein it was chaos as people surged towards sockets and caffeine. When the internet went down, the barista announced to the gathering crowds, “Cash payments only!”

Some reacted unfairly, with one shouting, “This is ridiculous!” I bit my tongue, while another let it fly and snapped back, “It’s reality!” Surprisingly, that took the edge off a brewing tension, and no rows ensued – THANKFULLY!

It was around 3:50pm when I looked at my laptop charge and saw it was low, despite plugged into a socket. Other people noticed the same, then we collectively realised all the charging sockets on the premises had tripped. I decamped to The Farnham Arms, and as I plugged in my Apple MacBook, I wondered why our governors didn’t use the 13 Billion they received from that company to mitigate the storm aftermath, given they knew it was coming – MADNESS!

Now, a bit of an about turn here (but still related to this column). The exclamation mark is frowned upon in the literary world; overuse of them is considered poor writing practice in some circles. The writer Terry Pratchett said, “Five exclamation marks, the sure sign of an insane mind.”

I’ve used nine in this column; and given they’re used to indicate ‘strong feelings and emotions’ they’re absolutely warranted in this piece of writing. In fact, there’s another quote, “life is not a full-stop or a question-mark. It’s an exclamation-mark.” That sounds so apt at the moment.

Emotions are running high; I saw a lady break down in a local supermarket, unable to contain her distress, it was a sorry sight. I’ve seen the tears, but as I write this I’m beginning to see and hear the tempers – FLARE!

Before the next low-pressure weather event is named, time to put high-pressure on the powers that be to ACT!