Storm Éowyn provided me with a not-too-subtle reminder that most buildings and trees on this farm are, like me, a bit long in the tooth.
No matter how much we claim that it was a once in a lifetime blast (and it possibly was), the vast majority of the destruction was on buildings that are more than 50 years old, and trees that were well past their sell-by date.
On this farm, two side-by-side young sheds suffered no damage at all, despite receiving the full force of the wind.
Surprisingly, I initially didn’t think we’d suffered too badly, judging by the noise levels outside the bedroom window from 6am. How wrong can you be?
The first clue that something was amiss were the small fragments of what looked like sheep’s wool that kept blowing past the window. It was, in fact, roof insulation from a poultry house.
Also, a greenhouse that had half the glass panes strewn across the garden was a strong indicator that things were not good.
Despite itching to see the damage, my wife commanded me to remain indoors until the wind eased slightly.
After 8am I could bear it no longer and I broke Susan’s curfew despite the risk of
getting decapitated by flying roof sheets.
The greenhouse was minus its glass, an old hay shed appeared to be waving at everyone who crossed the yard, but the most worrying part were the large sections of roof (with timbers still attached) from House 3 that had lodged themselves in various corners.
On closer inspection, the gable end of that unit looked to have simply collapsed inwards, and one section of roof must have subsequently become airborne.
Under control
Extra damage was done from the flying pieces crossing two more houses, where the sections must have rolled across and made a few impressive puncture wounds on the other roofs.
All in all, it made for a fairly catastrophic picture in the cold light of day.
Writing now, two weeks later, the situation could be described as under control. The tidy-up operation has been slow, but steady, several old buildings have been repaired, and the insurance company are dealing with the main piece of damage.
My wife was at pains to point out that these sharpened roof timbers could have been poking out of my head instead of a corrugated roof if I had ventured out at the peak of the storm
At this point I think I’m supposed to say something about how much worse it could have been, and sure no-one was hurt.
In truth, for a few hours at the time, I thought my world had collapsed. Apparently (according to my family), I fit into the category of personality types who tend to catastrophise events.
Fortunately, I wasn’t too busy for a few days, so I was able to hone my DIY skills on various old buildings.
I must have spent £200 to £300 on screws, bolts, galvanised straps, corner braces and tubes of silicon to carry out some basic repair jobs.
Having the correct items to hand is vitally important, although having anything that sort of half does the job is useful too. When you’re not well versed in the skillset required to carry out a professional job, it is remarkably easy to waltz into a builder’s merchants and come home with the wrong stuff.
And don’t get me started on knowing the proper terminology for everything you need to buy.
It is advisable to speak to one of your builder friends before you head out, in order to avoid falling into the elephant trap that is construction lingo.
For instance, if you want to buy a rivet gun, then you must lean nonchalantly on the counter (and preferably sniff loudly in a confident manner) and tell them you are looking for a Lazy Tong Riveter.
And if you prefer to see the people behind the counter glancing at one another while trying not to giggle, then ask for one of those long riveting guns that looks like a stack of x’s, one on top of the
other.
And for heaven’s sake don’t demand a pile of coach bolts when you mean coach screws, because he is liable to look at you as if you are the biggest imbecile to visit that day.
Dress code
Dress code may also play a part, because most clients in these establishments are wearing builders’ gear. Woolly hat, hi-vis jacket and boots caked in cement dust are highly desirable.
Very few seem to be clad in welly boots, a torn boiler suit and smelling strongly of silage and dung.
However, despite being slightly out of my depth when purchasing my hardware, I found the whole business of multiple building repairs to be immensely satisfying. Just as long as there are no more ferocious storms for another 25 years. Please.
Storm Éowyn provided me with a not-too-subtle reminder that most buildings and trees on this farm are, like me, a bit long in the tooth.
No matter how much we claim that it was a once in a lifetime blast (and it possibly was), the vast majority of the destruction was on buildings that are more than 50 years old, and trees that were well past their sell-by date.
On this farm, two side-by-side young sheds suffered no damage at all, despite receiving the full force of the wind.
Surprisingly, I initially didn’t think we’d suffered too badly, judging by the noise levels outside the bedroom window from 6am. How wrong can you be?
The first clue that something was amiss were the small fragments of what looked like sheep’s wool that kept blowing past the window. It was, in fact, roof insulation from a poultry house.
Also, a greenhouse that had half the glass panes strewn across the garden was a strong indicator that things were not good.
Despite itching to see the damage, my wife commanded me to remain indoors until the wind eased slightly.
After 8am I could bear it no longer and I broke Susan’s curfew despite the risk of
getting decapitated by flying roof sheets.
The greenhouse was minus its glass, an old hay shed appeared to be waving at everyone who crossed the yard, but the most worrying part were the large sections of roof (with timbers still attached) from House 3 that had lodged themselves in various corners.
On closer inspection, the gable end of that unit looked to have simply collapsed inwards, and one section of roof must have subsequently become airborne.
Under control
Extra damage was done from the flying pieces crossing two more houses, where the sections must have rolled across and made a few impressive puncture wounds on the other roofs.
All in all, it made for a fairly catastrophic picture in the cold light of day.
Writing now, two weeks later, the situation could be described as under control. The tidy-up operation has been slow, but steady, several old buildings have been repaired, and the insurance company are dealing with the main piece of damage.
My wife was at pains to point out that these sharpened roof timbers could have been poking out of my head instead of a corrugated roof if I had ventured out at the peak of the storm
At this point I think I’m supposed to say something about how much worse it could have been, and sure no-one was hurt.
In truth, for a few hours at the time, I thought my world had collapsed. Apparently (according to my family), I fit into the category of personality types who tend to catastrophise events.
Fortunately, I wasn’t too busy for a few days, so I was able to hone my DIY skills on various old buildings.
I must have spent £200 to £300 on screws, bolts, galvanised straps, corner braces and tubes of silicon to carry out some basic repair jobs.
Having the correct items to hand is vitally important, although having anything that sort of half does the job is useful too. When you’re not well versed in the skillset required to carry out a professional job, it is remarkably easy to waltz into a builder’s merchants and come home with the wrong stuff.
And don’t get me started on knowing the proper terminology for everything you need to buy.
It is advisable to speak to one of your builder friends before you head out, in order to avoid falling into the elephant trap that is construction lingo.
For instance, if you want to buy a rivet gun, then you must lean nonchalantly on the counter (and preferably sniff loudly in a confident manner) and tell them you are looking for a Lazy Tong Riveter.
And if you prefer to see the people behind the counter glancing at one another while trying not to giggle, then ask for one of those long riveting guns that looks like a stack of x’s, one on top of the
other.
And for heaven’s sake don’t demand a pile of coach bolts when you mean coach screws, because he is liable to look at you as if you are the biggest imbecile to visit that day.
Dress code
Dress code may also play a part, because most clients in these establishments are wearing builders’ gear. Woolly hat, hi-vis jacket and boots caked in cement dust are highly desirable.
Very few seem to be clad in welly boots, a torn boiler suit and smelling strongly of silage and dung.
However, despite being slightly out of my depth when purchasing my hardware, I found the whole business of multiple building repairs to be immensely satisfying. Just as long as there are no more ferocious storms for another 25 years. Please.
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