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Storm Rachel has come to visit, bloody fantastic…. the neighbors own our garden furniture now. We might get it back in time for Spring. Storms get names don’t you know? Rachel, Dorothy, Tom, Dick, Harry, Not, Again. Rachel, the oul’ windbag has spent so much of the afternoon banging on the windows and doors, creating a nuisance outside, that she has now started to howl down the chimney as well looking for attention. Oscar the cat has been looking in to the fireplace wondering who is howling down there, as Santa Claus has already been. Ah I don’t mind a storm… I love the wildness of it, great dog walking weather. It’ll put the fresheners on ya. It’s an amazing thing to feel… the power of nature, but there’s also times when you do wish it would disappear. Ah it’s a day for the fire and sports on TV. Larry, the family dog, has been barking at Rachel at different stages of the afternoon when she’s tried to come indoors, but she isn’t taking ‘woof’ as a hint to politely F – Off.

I think it was last night she arrived in force. Mischief is what she’s up to thinking she’s gas craic altogether. I was sure of that opinion when I opened my door in the supermarket car park and she had it nearly blown through the door of the car parked beside me, before I could get a hold of it. But luckily, get a hold of it I did. She also has me thinking, I could do a nice Mary Poppins impression if I went outside with an umbrella. She’s probably only playing, fun and games is all it is in her book. I hear she’s being a right nuisance all together further out the country, on western seas and in the midlands; knocking out power and the like. She doesn’t appear to be as difficult a guest as last January’s storm, who tore apart roads near the sea and brought flooding to most places. Christine, was the last storms name I’m lead to believe. We’re being visited by Rachel now though, and she’s not gone yet; however, Cork might survive this one. Rachel should know that we don’t like bad weather here, though you would think we were used to it… still, that doesn’t mean we have to like it. Rachel, being all too generous, has brought wind, rain, snow and a chill with her by the bucket-load that would have polar bears running for a scarf. Town will be littered tomorrow with dead umbrellas, among other things, discarded after battles between owner and what the visitor herself spits out. No use in an umbrella in this weather, may as well go dancing in the rain if you have to be out in it.

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