I have hidden behind that platitude for 80 years. The flood, after a day's torrent in December 1948 that broke the dam on Waterloo Road, Blarney made Mary and I scuttle up the stairs and stop at step four. The Christmas snow drift that blocked the road in Grange Co Waterford 1962.

Needed council diggers to shift.

Left us abandoned in a pub for a night on a chaise longue with a bucket of turf, and a lesson on turning the wheel to keep the fire going on the last night of our honeymoon.

Was that normal bad weather?

Maybe I have not raped the rainforest, but I have gulped my share of palm oil. I have enjoyed many a threshing where cut after cut through corn and nettles silenced Corncrakes. In 1986 when hurricane Charlie lashed our shores And J1 visas swept our young across the Atlantic We lost three sons from this house. Hurricane Katia came in 2011, downing trees and toppling poles. We were celebrating my 70th in a coastguard cottage, it blew out more than my birthday candles. Ophelia, she was the one who had it in for me.