struck by lightning

It was windy this morning.  I could tell that without getting up, because the bedroom door was rattling in its frame the way it does when there's a blow, unless we've wedged it with a piece of card.  Looking out of the bathroom window I was rather taken aback to see a leaden sky, and the trees waving about like the early scenes in a disaster film where there's going to be a hurricane later.  The Systems Administrator had a ticket for the Test at Lords, and from the distant rumbles of thunder, the forecast thundery breakdown had arrived early.

The SA got up, explained that this was the tail end of the thunder that had gone through in the night, and departed for the railway station.  I forgot about the cricket as I trundled off to get my cheques countersigned to pay beekeeping members for goods sold at the Tendring Show, which combined conveniently with visits to Aldi and the Aga shop.  I had run out of Aga's patent enamel cleaner, and have not yet dared to experiment with a common or garden ordinary product to see if that works just as well, or if it scratches the enamel.  The Aga shop is on the wrong side of town, and you aren't allowed to park outside, but I thought that if I went to Aldi first then I would be a bona fide Aldi customer, and could risk nipping across the road to get the enamel cleaner.  As emblems of the middle class zeitgeist of 2014 go, I should say that one was perfect.

I remembered the cricket again when I sat down with a cup of tea, switched on the laptop, and saw that trains into Liverpool Street were severely disrupted and subject to cancellations because they could not use four of the platforms.  And there was a problem with a level crossing gate at Ingatestone.  And signalling difficulties in the Romford area.  I began to imagine the Systems Administrator, who is not good in heat, waiting for an age on a crowded platform before sweltering on a packed train as it crawled to London, all the time aware that the Test Match for which he had paid handsomely to see was ticking away without him.  It's all very well for the wretched Abellio to advise commuters not to travel, but what are people supposed to do who have tickets for sporting events?  It's not as though England and India are going to reschedule the match for later when the trains are running.  Likewise everybody who has got a job interview, or an important sales presentation, or is timetabled to lecture to a room full of students who have timetables to keep to and exams to pass.  In fact, most people trying to carry on with their normal daily lives.

Abellio said that the problems were because their equipment had been struck by lightning in last night's storms.  Is that so?  I didn't read that the overground sections of the tube had ground to a halt because of lightning damage, or that London's roads were clogged by tailbacks due to storm damage knocking out the capital's traffic lights, or of swathes of houses and businesses losing electric power or phone connectivity.  I'm afraid that our railway infrastructure is a peculiarly delicate flower.

The SA rang up at about quarter past seven this evening, sounding remarkably cheerful and having managed to get to London in time for the cricket on a virtually empty train.  I did read that as part of the disaster recovery (or compoundment) plan, intermediate stops for Ipswich trains were being axed.  Indeed, I hear the scrunch of tyres on the gravel as I type this.  I might be living with the only vaguely happy train passenger in the whole of north Essex.