Posts Tagged ‘flood’

The last couple of days

I went up to The Summer House last weekend to clear it of all the flood-drenched items – furniture, linen, bedding, books, chattel in general.

The trip up there was devastatingly beautiful. Sunshine, blue skies and a scattering of clouds – and birds as in the picture below.

20131216-172206.jpgWhen I arrived the neighbours were already busy, clearing their house of everything that had been in it. The sight of their house’s content piled up on the still-flooded lawn was rather abysmal and disheartening, but that is their stuff and I won’t show you what it looked like. One’s possessions tend to look rather shabby when drenched with fjord water and piled up on a flooded lawn – there were numerous cases of this up and down the road.

20131216-172217.jpgI had a carpenter come by on Saturday and another on Sunday to make an assessment of the damage and give an estimate of the works needed. The floors needed to go, so the first carpenter did some exploratory cuts to see what was underneath. Not surprisingly there was soaking wet insulation, another layer of wet wood and then a puddle on the ground underneath the floor.

20131216-172226.jpgThe main part of the house – the sitting room and the kitchen – is in the oldest structure of the house, and that’s basically a log cabin, only with very narrow logs, so it has been insulated externally with Styrofoam and an external wood cladding. The insulation and the cladding might have to go – apart from anything because Styrofoam is highly flammable – but the main structure remains healthy and with moderate moisture measurements, considering the circumstances. 2′ up the wall the moisture levels are at 25% relative humidity which is not far from what you’d find in a healthy unheated wooded cabin in winter.

20131216-172234.jpgIt was sad, though, to clear the house for all non-salvageable items. Like books… At the bottom of the pile to the left is a small collection of Astérix and Lucky Luke comics I bought while I lived in Paris. At the top to the left is the cookery book that my aunt gave me when I tuned 18 as a “get out of your parents’ home” present – hence the 10 months in Paris… And then there’s Mrs. Beeton on the lower right; I bought her myself, but I’ve loved her dearly.

20131216-172247.jpgAnd then there’s everything else. The entire “previously covered terrace” is full of furniture and other wet stuff, and then there’s a large pile on top of our double bed, standing in the watery lawn. And there’s another pile behind the house. It really does look like so much junk piled high, but when it was dry it was the trappings of a holiday home. Still, it is replaceable stuff, and for some absurd reason I’m thrilled that the dart board we’ve never used has died in the flood whereas out croquet set, Viking game and petanque boules have all survived.

So there. Much is lost, and to be frank I’ve had a rather miserable weekend emptying the house and the annex. And yes, it’s taking it’s toll on me, but I’m pulling through. The house is safe if I just stay cool and get things done. And I will get things done.

Tonight, though, I will enjoy the fact that there is nothing I can do right now. And I will indulge myself in a bout of misery and feel really sad about our poor little house that we love so much. It will survive, no matter what I have to do, but it has taken quite a beating and it can still make me cry now, nearly 1½ weeks after the flooding happened.

It might be just a house, but it’s MY house. And NOBODY  messes with my house! If I have to tear out the floor myself, I’ll do it. I will do whatever it takes. It hurts so much to see it like this, and the only comfort is that some day in spring I will go up there to spend a weekend in a lovely, healthy house. Even if I might have to camp out on the floor the first couple of weekends.

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The Flâneur Husband and I went up to the garden Friday afternoon after work, and this is what met us:

Flooded Garden

Our summerhouse had more or less turned into a moated castle, only without the crenelated towers and the drawbridge. The latter would have been useful, since we were both in our city shoes… Mine were leather, so I traversed the lawn with difficulty and returned – wearing my wellies – with a pair of clogs for the Flâneur Husband so he wouldn’t have to wreck his suede (NOT blue) shoes.

The neighbours told us that on Thursday the area had 80mm of rain, which is a lot more rain than falls in the average month of July, and since this has been a wet summer the ground was saturated and there was no other way this could have turned out.

Merged Puddles

Needless to say The Puddles were hard to spot, since they had merged with the lawn in that corner of the garden to form a Great Lake – or at least a garden version thereof.

I was somewhat annoyed with this, as this was not what we had expected to see on that sunny afternoon, but the Flâneur Husband seemed absolutely put out by it and very worried about whether it would damage any plants and how long it would take to subside. I, on the other hand, have seen flooding like this in the garden several times the first year we had the garden – before we had the drain installed – so I was pretty sure the plants would stand up to it with no problems, but still…

The - wet - Sunny Border

My poor dahlias were standing in 3 inches of water, and I’m pretty sure dahlias aren’t naturally aquatic plants…

Still, after some food and a glass of wine – and the turning-on of the drain pump to pump water out into the stream behind the house – the mood lifted and we had a lovely evening after all, taking advantage of the photo-op to take some pictures of how flâneurs deal with a flood:

Flâneur Husband

Flâneur Husband

Flâneur Gardener

Flâneur Gardener

-A glass of Chardonnay and a leisurely stroll through the garden, even if it had to be in 3 inches of water! And yes, I like to don some tweed in the garden from time to time as the picture shows.

The next morning, though, the lake had all but vanished from our plot. The Puddles were still merged into a single pond-sized puddle, but the lawn was visible and the ground was generally just boggy and wet, rather than flooded.

Boggy Garden

It was a sight for sore eyes to wake up to a garden where wellies wasn’t de rigeur, and even the dahlias were now on dry (i.e. boggy) ground:

Dahlias on dry ground

The upside to this flooding is that hoards of slugs seem to have drowned in the water; sadly, though, loads of earth worms also perished.

Today, Sunday, the garden looks wonderful – and dry! The Flâneur Husband mowed most of the lawn today before heading back to town, and Idid the rest this afternoon. There’s laundry drying in the sun, a mild wind is keeping the temperature in the sun bearable and I’ve put away the tweeds in favour of a pair of swimming trunks and a chair in the sunny courtyard.

Mowed lawn

(I might not air my dirty laundry in public, but I don’t mind putting my clean laundry on the Internet!)

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