I wrote for luck, they sent me you
|So [...] eventually made it down south and supervised the removal people delivering our furniture and boxes to the new place this morning. He came round to my folks house at lunch time and then we set off back to our new place just to adjust the heating and for me to take a look at what the layout of the rooms looked like with the furniture in.|
As we parked beside the house, there was water pouring from the eaves. It was not raining. And this water was pouring. Entering the house, we saw water was also pouring from several places in the ceiling in the kitchen, hall, bathroom and living room. Onto our stuff; our electrical appliances, the boxes containing such items as books and musical instruments.
I could provide dialogue, but I'm sure you can imagine.
However, having turned the water and electricity off, we managed to transfer all the vulnerable boxes and the stuff out of the damp boxes into the bedroom where it was safe. We have been extraordinarily lucky; the only things that have got thoroughly wet are some CDS, which of course will still play; the paper inlays have got wet but there's nothing irreplacable. The books are okay. The musical instruments are okay. Even the cuddly toys are okay.
Nothing precious has got damaged, nothing that really matters.
Nobody was hurt. ([...] was already deep in the puddle before we thought about the electricity.)
We might have left the radiator for tomorrow. It might have effected every room and all our possessions.
We are knackered. [...] was already knackered and mildly malnourished from the week he has had finishing off in Whitby. We have no idea what happens next. Not even sure what's happened. If we weren't moving so close to my folks, who we can stay with tonight... And Mum had this afternoon off, so she came to our rescue.
Extraordinarily lucky, really. And yet, well, buggery bollocks.