There’s a pacing going on tonight. He’s my cool, calm and collected farmer and I’m pacing. I ask him all the possible what if’s, the impossibles, the catastrophes and while I really should be more of a support, he ends up shushing me, reassuring me. We’ll be fine.
But, but on a fine day, the Atlantic makes herself known to us and now they’ve said Hurricane. Were there hurricanes before or is this a new thing now? What about the cows? Do we keep them in or put them out? Oh God.
They’ll be fine.
I’ll make bread. Will I make bread?
And torches? Do we have batteries?
What about the sheds? We’ve lost shelter with the build?
I’d better bring in more supplies.
What about the vets? Should I run to the vets?
It might just be a big storm. I hope so. The last one was hard. It shook us a bit. There was a bit of damage. But. But.
Somehow, you just can’t worry being married to this man. You can’t have yourself one big auld worry.
It’ll just be grand.
Stay safe. x