With Storm Bert rapidly approaching our shores, we noticed that the roof had started to let in water, yet again today. It wasn’t much, given the news around the world, but it certainly was a dampener to the morning. With tea towels, and old sheets thrown down to soak up the excess, we set about calling the roofer. The roofer had already fixed one end of the roof, and had tried repeatedly to fix this problem. It’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack, a hole in the felt lining of the roof. The roofer is set to return yet again on Tuesday – it was never intended to be a series.
Connectivity
The wifi also started to play up. It has always been a problem getting the wifi signal from one end of the house to the other opposite corner. I had tried a series of wifi extenders, little plug in boxes, that repeat the signal it receives so connectivity is extended across the house. That nearly always worked for a few days before something trips the carefully balanced system, or so I like to believe. This system is akin to swimming in various small pools of water, each with their own name. If you roam too far, then you’ll need to connect to the next repeater, to get in the next particular pool. So, I bought an upgraded system that allows what is known as mesh wifi. This is where instead of each repeater having its own name, or SSID to the boffins, the system now has just one name and we can roam from room to room and we can just move within the one sea of wifi.
I could feel the negativity starting to envelop, but through calm quiet discussions (with myself) and my wife, we could see the wood from the trees. Our emotions, albeit necessary, are not facts. What we might feel is crashing down around us, can be reconsidered as just another thing we can survive. Just like the ones we survived earlier this week, and the week before that. It doesn’t diminish what we are going through, but highlights that, within us, we may have the intrinsic ability to come up for air, and breathe.
The water is still leaking in, but the roofer will see us on Tuesday. The Wii now reaches across the house…just.
and then there was fire…
I has been a real surprise to us, that the humble fire is so important. I recall the fire my Mum & Dad had, back in the early 1970s. Where my Dad had to carefully rake out the ashes each morning, and then very carefully take the pan of ashes – hopefully not still glowing – out of the front room, and out the back to his compost bin. He enjoyed the benefit of the Potassium(?) but I can also recall my Mum watching him from the corner of her eye until he had successfully ‘cleared’ the room carpet.
Can you recall using a real fire?
Today, in 2024, at the age of 61+, I never expecting to be using a wood fire unless it was a real luxury. Like when you might go on holiday and they offer you the use of a log burner. With oil being the fuel available for the central heating, wood is a cheaper alternative. The setting of the fire was an obligatory skill for all aspiring deaconesses, back when the Wesleyan Diaconal Order was starting its journey. They never offered that class when I trained in 2016. Nor was I a scout, and it shows. Nevertheless, we have hunkered down today in one room, with the fire gently glowing.
A friend’s cat was seen rolling in front of their fire – the latter are present in most houses here, for a good reason. Our cat is more reluctant, remaining at a fair distance, preferring to sleep on our lap.
So, with a night of listening to the wind howling, as Storm Bert moves past us, I contemplate that, from our experience of life, we have it within us to get through this night, …and the next. Yes, our thoughts, feelings and emotions might just convey a different perspective at times, but like the proverbial swan, we can also have the power to get through this. For some prayer is also an option; for others, it is just hunkering down and rolling with the tide.
Let’s hope the incoming water doesn’t meet the sea of wifi…