Tuesday, 27 November 2012

It's a hard rain's a falling

I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a fallin'. The words are Bob Dylan's, but it has been hard this summer, and autumn and now winter is upon us and the rains still a-fallin'. Finally the saturated land has said no more and this week the garden where most of my work is done has flooded twice. The kiln was a little island and we had to evacuate the chickens before their little home became an Ark.
There is a brook that runs through our garden, this time last year it was dry and it was possible to walk along its whole length with no problem, not even a damp puddle. Further along from the garden, the brook goes under ground and comes out the other side of the village. If the grating to the culvert blocks up, then the whole village gets it and some of the houses flood.
Such was the intensity and duration of the rain this week, along with the amount of leaves, branches and debris suddenly unleashed, that the culvert gave up and within a couple of hours we had a rise of two metres of water. Thrussington Pottery was out of bounds until a handful of villagers, armed with rakes and hooks managed to clear some of the debris and the level subsided.
The kiln stands on concrete blocks, and the glazing shed was only millimetres from being submerged and I'm sure it will all dry out eventually, but for now it's impossible to do anything other than stare from the windows of our house. The only casualties were some small bottles left lying on the ground by the kiln, waiting to have their wadding removed. The waters must have swept them away and by now they will be on their way to the North sea. No messages inside, but if anyone out there finds them, please enjoy them and I'm sorry I didn't get round to cleaning them up.





While we were away this weekend selling pots at Harley Christmas Market, there was a second deluge and flooding. The waters rose during the night, so there was no one around to wield hooks and rakes and the kiln and garden got it's second swim in a week, whilst a house was flooded further downstream most of the village escaped.

And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard life a-potting.

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