Stormy Stormy Night...

or Saturday, I should say. The southwest of France has been battered with the worst storm since December 1999, with winds reaching up to 184km(114miles)/hour, torrential rain, flying debris, and falling trees. Going outside hasn't really been an attractive option the last couple of days.

It's a wonder sometimes how these old stone houses and buildings stay standing after all these years and storms. Apparently there have been a few deaths from collapsing stone walls, and a man was lightly wounded after a chunk of the facade of the Mairie in Narbonne fell onto his car.

I lay awake Friday night and listened as our roof tiles moved a millimeter every time the strong winds rattled the house. That means the possibility of new leaks. That also means the Duke, who isn't enamored of heights, will have to go up there soon to check out the damage. He's really looking forward to that.

But I suppose we should count ourselves lucky. The Hérault, our department, escaped the brunt of it, and we weren't one of the over 40.000 homes that lost their telephone lines or electricity. We also luckily weren't traveling, as most of the airports were closed, trains were canceled, and many roads were blocked by fallen trees.

Instead, we just battened down the hatches on Saturday. Which in a non-submarine scenario meant that we stayed inside, played games and puzzles with the little ladies while a boeuf bourguignon slowly cooked in the oven. Gave me a good excuse for not doing any of the work in the garden I needed to do.

But in true Languedoc fashion, it's lovely and sunny this morning, without a cloud in the sky. Guess I'll have to do that work in the garden after all.