“Well..did you survive the night?!!”
That’s all we are hearing this week in the wake of Mz Ex-Hurricane Ophelia who hit the south west coast of Ireland with the MAJOR rages on Monday morning.
Us Irish, as usual, had been fairly chillaxed about it’s arrival.
Except me. I’d been flinging garden furniture and toys into the shed since Friday afternoon (thanks to my trusted bringer-of-all-the-weather-updates – Twitter – but by Saturday night at dinner, most of my fellow diners hadn’t even heard that a hurricane was about to hit.
And I thought I was the one who generally had my head up my ass.
By Sunday evening, as soon as we all knew that the kids were getting the day off school, we were taking that shit seriously.
“The WHOLE day?”, cried we. “Sher it’s not even SNOWING!!”
Kids strapped to the crafts table, X-box, games board and hunkered down in forts, we braced ourselves for the inevitable cabin fever that comes from having to entertain our kids all day when the weather isn’t playing ball.
That we can deal with – but throwing our PARTNERS into the mix? Ass Monkey was off and house-bound with us for at least 7 hours.
That’s just damn torture.
(Hope you all ARE ok after Ophelia. I know that lots of people are without power around the country and homes and businesses have been damaged. Thinking of you all x)