Saturday two weeks ago, I had a job to tackle that was going to be somewhat unsavoury.

I’d gone to the freezer to take out a loaf of bread as I’ve always been in the habit of keeping bread in the freezer. I also make batches of brown and white scones for emergencies. Both supplies had been depleted. There were no reserve dinners there for busy days either, or no apple or rhubarb tarts for an unexpected visitor. These were the thoughts that were going through my mind as I approached my almost full freezer. Indeed, what could be in there?

It needed a good clean-out, defrost and organisation. But just not now. I opened it up. Half the contents were gone. There was a loud crash as the avalanche of ice tumbled from the sides of the freezer, along with the realisation that the thing was in an advanced state of thaw! How could it be, I wondered? Had my old freezer finally given up the ghost? Alas, no, there was the black plug lying on the ground limp and helpless. Then the penny dropped.

A certain dog had been clipped in the room where the freezer is stored. It was a possibility that the culprits were easily identifiable.

I was quick to come to the conclusion that being cross and blaming another family member was not going to solve my problem. I knew it was not intentional. The culprits were immediately contrite, expressing their genuine regret.

So, with apologies accepted, I began the chore. Several hours later I finished the job. By then, there was but a few ice packs and a several litres of colostrum left. The bottles had been in the centre of the mess and were still frozen. It was probably the single most important item in the freezer. When Colm heard the story, he asked: “Was the colostrum okay?” Everyone has their own priorities.

WAITING FOR OPHELIA

The week rolled on and we were promised Ophelia. We made what preparations we could; removing loose items from the yard and garden. Then we waited. Tim and Colm milked the cows very early and sent them to a safe paddock and Philip tended the other stock.

While in the milking parlour, the men heard a loud crash. A gust of wind had turned over the roof on the isolation box. Ophelia was building.

By 9am we were all indoors. The wind was howling viciously. The adjoining workshop roof began to lift at one side. Gradually there were five sheets of iron lifting. It would hover over the shed and fall back down again. The chute along the back seemed to be the only thing holding it. Colm and I watched it from the safety of the living room window. The feeling of helplessness was frustrating. In the end, that roof didn’t come off but it is obviously damaged. We lost power at lunch time.

The storm calmed towards evening. Tim and I went out in the jeep for a look. Many of the roads around had been blocked but had already been cleared by good neighbours. All the animals were fine and we surmised that we’d been lucky and the repairs to the shed would probably be the biggest cost.

There were no cows milked that evening or the next morning and we began to realise just how dependant we are on electricity. Sometimes an event like storm Ophelia, though rare, really emphasises the value of good neighbours. We got great help from our neighbours the Osbornes, who live across the road. Yet, we could go months without meeting them. There’s always a silver lining no matter how bad the disaster.

Philip moving out also afforded us a house that had a hot shower and hot food once we could travel.

THE CLEANUP

In total, we were 48 hours without electricity, internet and phones and 72 hours without water. To be honest, it feels like we were out for a week. It was a long 72 hours.

Big water troughs and storage tanks gave the men some comfort in the yard. The smell in the kitchen was just awful though. It was a combination of kitchen units just not washed down and food turning in the fridge.

Unfortunately, we have blue cheese and brie lovers. There was a putrid odour of cheese softening, ham sweating, minced beef oxidising and rashers and sausages growing bacteria in their packets. So the dumping had to start. But my freezer just needed a wipe out. Wasn’t I glad I didn’t lose the rag with the dog clipping people. But this time the colostrum was lost.

As the days wear on, we are counting the cost of storm Ophelia. What looked like a small cost has turned out to be much more once we assessed it – a twisted door, broken items in the yard and repairs to the two sheds. The generator will have to be replaced too.

All in all, we escaped lightly, with people and stock remaining safe. We lost a lot of medium-sized trees and a few of our oldest beech trees on the farm. Their majestic presence is irreplaceable.

Remembering those who died

Unfortunately, three people lost their lives during the hurricane. I was sad to learn that Claire O’Neill, an oncology nurse, died near her home in Aglish, Co Waterford, when a branch fell on her car.

Claire worked with Cork ARC Cancer Support House in the city and in setting up the new service in Youghal. I met Claire with John Landers last year and featured the new service in this column. She was such a gentle personality and a wonderful listener, bringing comfort to people going through cancer treatment. May she rest in peace. CL