In these Apocalyptic times with storms plagues and pestilence sweeping in from the east and west simultaneously, the only thing to do is to go on a panic buying spree. This causes difficulties, as I have boxes full of plastic kits, enough porridge, rice and flour to feed several dinner parties, and we use cleaning products all the time, so feel no need to go out to panic-buy these exotic products.
The weather came to my rescue. Storms have names now, in a misguided attempt to make them more human, in a sort of get-to-know-you-and-blow-your-house-down fashion. The names given to storms are, frankly uninspiring. We name our own, so after storms Donald, Eggnog and Furioso had stomped through our garden, it was time to inspect Shed du Soleil, which was looking unperturbed.
Closer inspection revealed spongy patches and small tears in the bitumen, so the roof was stripped down to the base. Sure enough, the doors that I had originally used to roof the shed with, had deteriorated over twenty years and needed replacing. A quick trip to the builder’s merchant followed and cowboybuilders.co.uk swung into action on another wobbly ladder job.
Of course, it was still raining, so by the end of the day, the roofline looked like this. My builder’s website has gone dead and he is not answering his mobile phone. Should I be worried?