I spent the first hour trying to keep plastic drop sheets stretched over the two spare lounge suites still sitting on the front patio after the delivery of my new suite a few weeks ago.
The warm water hitting the pool in the back yard, on an already humid day, started green algae blooms almost immediately, and the deep, bilious colour spread swiftly across the depths as the wild wind filled the pool with bark, leaves and luckless spiders and frogs.
As the evening grew darker, I lit some candles, and began cursing the fact that I couldn't cook, boil water for coffee, or even read. I tried to read by candle-light, but it just wasn't strong enough to light the page. Sigh. In the failing daylight, I did briefly take my book out onto the front patio and, of course, sat right underneath a drip. Ick. (So much for keeping the book in mint condition.)
As night rolled on, a brainwave struck! I braved the rain to retrieve four solar-powered, imitation rock, garden lights from poolside, and set them up on the lounge room floor so I could keep reading. All to the tune of the electric burglar alarm, setting off its annoying whining signal every five minutes, to warn that its power supply had been unexpectedly cut off. And the screaming - oh the screaming! - of the local frogs, celebrating the day's unexpected precipitation.
Fred Flintstone would be so proud of me!