At just after 6a.m. I could hear the wind pick up. As was forecast. Not forecasted was the crash of thunder, the sheet lightning which preceded the crash. It was very like a Musical Performance by one of the late, great composers, first the overture and then.....
Not long after all that came the polka, as the electric went off, on, off, on and then....off. Just as I had showered. Hair dripping, one get so used to the blast of the hair dryer....Putting make up on and nail varnish in the dark is not a good idea.
The electric company said they had no idea when we would be back on, could be tomorrow.
So I went to where it was warm and I could get a cappucino.
View from the Lighthouse Museum Cafe. Windspeed 104mph.
Our stalwart regulars in the cafe. Coffee and toast every day.
And, every day, its a check of the obituary columns........Great fun.
Elsewhere the winds did their damage. Bringing along hail stone white outs.
Cairnbulg Harbour. The owners should have taken heed of the weather forecast and removed their boats. Smashed or sunk will be the outcome.
This boat above has been swept onto the slipway.
The wreck of the Sovereign. This boat has been off the harbour wedged onto rocks for many years. The last big storm, a year ago, it moved and there was talk of it being removed from the sea, as it was more accessible. It has today moved again.
I returned home and spent the daylight h0urs remaining and the heat from the woodburner to wrap up Christmas gifts, ready for posting.
I wrapped up warmly and went to see if the shedudio was surviving. Warmed by a candle, well actually not being warmed by anything, I suddenly noticed the house across the field had light! On went Pavarotti singing Christmas songs and on went the electric fire.
3p.m. the brave people who go up poles and refix the wires had done their job. Thank you to all.
The last time I had phoned the emergency line it was, " 80,000 homes are without electricity. If you are to be disconnected overnight we will inform you."
I had the oil lamps ready, candles, Scrabble, hummed a few carols. Got the soup ready to put on top of the stove, fingerless gloves, nose dripping imagined, a proper old fashioned evening.