We had a junior hurricane in the U of K yesterday. Well, it wasn't a hurricane by the time it reached our shores; it was more of a hooley, as they say in Ireland. But, still, the wind blew and the rain lashed. For the east of England, this counts as biblical stuff.
I was delighted when I got home to see that the shed I'd hastily nailed together a few weeks ago had withstood the tempest. I had already mentally earmarked it as "missing - presumed dead" as I surveyed the carnage from my office window yesterday. But, no!, it came through unscathed. Well done, me.
Things settled down overnight, and the only lasting impact of our brush with the elements is on the water butt in the front garden, which looks like it's been overdoing the meat and potato pies. I don't know what one is supposed to do in circs. like this. Is it in danger of exploding if we get a severe frost, for example? Should I "let" some of the water into a milk bottle to ease the pressure? Every householder of a certain age except for the wife and I appears to know this stuff automatically. Like Bill Hicks, I feel constantly that I must have missed a meeting somewhere along the line. This is nothing new for me of course. I've felt like this my entire life. Impostor syndrome, I believe it's called.
I'll google it.
The received wisdom is that one cannot overfill a WB. And no-one makes mention of one shattering its sides due to water expansion on freezing. I'll ignore it then. I'm sure that's best policy...as it is with most matters in life.
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