Christmas Eve
Mum lies exhausted on the sofa. It’s a rather extraordinary Christmas Eve. Just put the radio on – healthcare reform has passed the Senate – and, aside from being a good piece of news in itself, it’s a welcome break to hear something other than bad weather filling the airwaves.
We’ve had our fill of bad weather. I was jumped out of bed shortly after half nine by Dad: the water was beginning to seep in downstairs. Elsa and me began to put bits and bobs that were on the ground onto the bed to save them from getting wet. Mattresses and the DVDs, books and clothes. Mum was frantically pushing water into the drain in the downstairs loo. I grabbed the mop to catch as much as I could and get it into buckets. Within the half hour all efforts were rendered futile.
The next stage was to begin getting as much as we could upstairs. Computer, books and papers. Then the paintings and a couple of bits of furniture. The mattresses were awkward and the whole time buckets were endlessly filled, ran upstairs and hurled out and onto higher ground. Dogs in the way and panic nibbling at bay. The front yard over a metre underwater and the doors barely holding out while the water gushed through the cracks. After over an hour of desperate sloping around we began wonder just how far this would go. The rain was still horizontal and everything was now floating. We decamped to the fire and weakly munched some bread, cheese and coffee. After a while the rain subsided and I wandered up the track to gaze out over the river which was over 100m wide.
As we potter amongst the chaos the sun comes and goes and it seems the worst is over. Lord knows what tomorrow will be like. For now I’ve got a chicken in the oven and the electricity is thankfully on. Down the valley three towns have been evacuated. Farms have been rinsed of pigs and possessions. Some houses are completely underwater and in Ronda the ancient riding school in the bullring has sadly gone. In many ways it has been OK!
