It looks like Teddy didn’t bring me any presents. Dorian did. Nothing I really wanted, but it brought me stuff. And unlike Christmas when you might not get what you want, but you get what you need… you know… like socks and underwear, it didn’t bring me any of those things either.
I should probably explain a bit more.
My mother happens to live along the harbour in Liverpool. Which is nice… most of the time. Not so nice in bad weather.
Last year, Dorian came roaring into her back yard, bringing a lot of dried shoreline plants, assorted garbage and about half a cord of four foot pulp wood.
This had me scratching my head as to where this wood had been hiding for… how long was it?
Last going off, pulp wood was cut in eight foot lengths. Four foot lengths of pulp wood were something that existed in my childhood. You know… in another century. And the wood that was laying around after Dorian was obviously that old. There was no bark, there were holes that had been chewed by bugs long gone. You could tell it had been in the water for some time. Possibly since the 1960s, when four foot pulp wood was floated down the Mersey River to the Bowater mill.
Some of that wood obviously escaped, waited until it was no more use to anyone, and then decided to come back during a storm. Sort of like zombie wood… only never really coming back to life.
I checked. Some of that wood was still lurking out there yesterday, but the times never got quite high enough and Teddy’s surge never got quite strong enough to allow it to invade.
Hopefully, you got away with no damage from Teddy. At least I don’t have to deal with zombie wood this year.
