Fitful was not the word for it. I spent most of the night alternately with a pillow around my head, searching for earplugs in every drawer and cupboard, or pressing my fingers as far into my ears as they would go.
Sleeping in our bedroom last night was like try to get some rest on top of a dryer full of bouncing shoes while a tea kettle goes on and off beside your head.
The cause of all that racket?
A snoring husband? No.
An inconsiderate neighbor? Nope.
Restless animals? Nuh-uh.
All of these could have been remedied. But this, this is insanity was an act of God. The wind. Or rather, our house doing its best to resist all the huffing and puffing being thrown at it.
There are stories of pioneers being driven mad by the wind here, wandering off into the desert. I could see it. If there had been a badger hole nearby I may have sought refuge in it last night.The gusts were over 55 mph and our house took a beating. The windows and doors rattled, howled and otherwise made a vile musical instrument of the dwelling in which we were trying to you know, sleep.
I considered recording it so you could experience the science fiction soundtrack for yourself, but decided no speakers would do it justice.
Me, this morning: "I can't believe you slept through all that!"
Jack: "Through what?"
"The wind! It sounded like the house was coming apart."
"Well, you know what they say about the sleep of the innocent."
If I were Catholic, I'd be headed to confession.
Sleeping in our bedroom last night was like try to get some rest on top of a dryer full of bouncing shoes while a tea kettle goes on and off beside your head.
The cause of all that racket?
A snoring husband? No.
An inconsiderate neighbor? Nope.
Restless animals? Nuh-uh.
All of these could have been remedied. But this, this is insanity was an act of God. The wind. Or rather, our house doing its best to resist all the huffing and puffing being thrown at it.
There are stories of pioneers being driven mad by the wind here, wandering off into the desert. I could see it. If there had been a badger hole nearby I may have sought refuge in it last night.The gusts were over 55 mph and our house took a beating. The windows and doors rattled, howled and otherwise made a vile musical instrument of the dwelling in which we were trying to you know, sleep.
I considered recording it so you could experience the science fiction soundtrack for yourself, but decided no speakers would do it justice.
Me, this morning: "I can't believe you slept through all that!"
Jack: "Through what?"
"The wind! It sounded like the house was coming apart."
"Well, you know what they say about the sleep of the innocent."
If I were Catholic, I'd be headed to confession.
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