Wet wet wet

Nice way to end your week’s downtime. A cloudburst of major proportions just hit Johannesburg’s north-west and flooded my home. Here’s what’s left of my patio roof.

To give you an idea how violent the rain and hail were, this is right outside my office. It collapsed not two metres from where I was sitting, on the other side of a curtained window, and I didn’t hear a thing. I only saw this when I surveyed the house for damage after it got flooded.

A foot or more of hail was a little more than my drains could handle:

The water poured in at the doors. This is my workshop after I blocked the worst flooding, and the icy water had subsided from being near ankle-deep.

My pool was sparkling a couple of hours ago. It wasn’t brimming either. And it was 18 degrees, not 14 degrees, as it is now. That’s some serious chillin’ right there.

It’s half a metre deep here, at the bottom of my garden. Yes, there’s a storm drain, but it’s not the Lesotho Highlands Water Project. Not that the raging torrent that passed for a road outside the wall needed any help. Maybe I should built a boathouse. At least then I can get to the garden shed for the shovel I need.

The ice dam shovelled out of the way, in case the cursed clouds open up again.

Now my back hurts, my feet are frozen, and I’m somewhat grumpy. I bet Alec “The Bolt” Erwin had something to do with this.