Thought For The Week
Ren eh ceau fliaghtey son daeed laa as daeed oie.
[It rained for forty days and forty nights.]
It has been raining. A bit.
The night after the waters of Boscastle decided to rise up and rid themselves of unwanted guests it absolutely tipped down in St. Ives. Although t'castle was safe on the heights it did mean that we got hammered for food as no one, not even Jacques Cousteau, was prepared to set foot (or flipper) outside the door.
Surprisingly given the violence of the deluge the Stennack more or less behaved itself although some of the traditionally first-to-be-flooded places, e.g. Lifeboat Pub, copped it.
Major Tom To Ground Control
Apart from the rain, which even I couldn't help but notice, I have no idea what, if anything, went on last week. Secure in my solitary confinement, sensory deprivation tank that is the carnagery I have lost all contact with the outside the world.
Not having seen a real St. Ivean and not (yet) being prepared to believe anything the ems tell me, I have had to rely on the Reporting Team for information.
They inform me that it's my round!
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