It was 14°C with 71 km/h gusts at 10.25am when the car moved – and Soot (the approaching 21 year old cat) was strolling around considering where to flop (following a bowl top up and gobbling a lot of it), and I’d grabbed a biscuit. A half dead looking man was getting out of a Highway Maintenance van in our road; there was a big puddle in a village driven through and the River Avon was very high; a Romanian lorry was passed, and Fulbrook Lane had a big field of something blowing around…

…and Charlecote Park was quite busy at 10.56am.

In the visitor reception place – we were told the high winds meant no cafes were open; we crossed the road, my hair was going everywhere, a welly was found on a path, and a bit further along were puddles (which Mum insisted on jumping in).

A Spaniel of some sort was having his or her ears blown everywhere; me deciding to put my waterproof on when approaching an archway caused me to blurt out some strong language – due to the force of the wind blowing through making the stuff I was clutching very hard to cling on to; the truck by the 2nd hand bookshop wasn’t selling coffee, as the boy and girl in the truck had accidentally locked the coffee machine somewhere in the house where building work was going on; some little kids were playing hide and seek – and one (wearing yellow wellies) was marching around with a stick, while another was carrying a toy cement mixer.

I forgot when we moved because welly wanging (Wikipedia defines it as: ‘welly throwing, also known as welly hoying, welly wanging and boot throwing, is a sport in which competitors are required to throw a Wellington boot as far as possible. The sport appears to have originated in the West Country of England in the 1970s’) was being done by some more kids…

Mum marched up and down in a puddle (wearing her own wellies)…

…my hair continued to go everywhere, a couple of ducks were wiggling their beaks around in the gunge of the River Avon; and then my boot laces got tangled up in an inconvenient bit of the path, I tried not to go splat (which didn’t work) and I ended up half flat in a very muddy puddle. My boot laces had to be untangled before I could get up again, I had a very soggy bottom and discovered I’d ripped the left knee of my jeans open and I was bleeding a bit (which Mum termed ‘spurting blood’) – so I was intermittently whimpering when walking down an avenue of leaf bald but very hairy trees next to the deer sanctuary.

Mole hills were everywhere (causing me to wonder how many moles were underground), the herd of deer were mostly seated and some were grazing together, an area was fenced off due to flooding, some massive branches had dropped off trees, and the whole scene looked very wintery.

A small boy had a Team Avengers jumper on and binoculars round his neck; another collapsed tree had a bluetit doing loud twittering from it, I was finding it very difficult to see where I was going due to my hair still being blown all over the place; the welly wanging spot was unoccupied then – so it got given a go, and a couple of nearby sheep may’ve been making comments while grazing.

It was 12.40pm when we approached the house again, Mum was wondering why children scream, bought a brownie, and when seated – I realised how much my nose was dribbling. 10 minutes later rain began, a nearby father was juggling some balls, and a spaniel was making loud squeaking noises; and we got moving again. The coach house had a couple of carriages in…

…and an ancient saddle; and a device that may’ve been a water pump was outside in the yard…

…more kids were splattering around in the puddles and screaming; and back in the gatehouse was a room containing a large deer head, multiple skulls, a fireplace, and a very 21st century television.

Then we were blown down a very puddly path by winds estimated at 50mph/80km/h, there was deer poo, more Jacob sheep, 2 little terriers (in pink coats) were yanking their owners along the path, lots and lots of ducks were on the lake (paying no attention to dogs, people, or gusts), a nearby area of beehives had signs warning visitors not to enter and a noticeboard told people to dial 999 in the event of an emergency. Rain started at 1.15pm, my left knee hurt, a propeller plane flew over while swaying around in the gusts; and back at the car at 1.23pm – the sight of myself in the car window was not nice and my knee looked gory (and I thought it was developing a knobble) and Mums hair had gone flat.

The river in Hampton Lucy was very very high, a tree had fallen over, Google Maps told me Fulbrook Lane was also National Cycle Route 41, a man in a sock hat who looked like he was about to collapse with exhaustion was jogging along; and I had a heck of a lot of snot coming out of the end of my nose by the time we made it home.