Floods and foreheads

It's been wet. That is an understatement. On Tuesday the rain started coming down hard. Very, very hard and did not ease in the slightest until 4pm on Wednesday. I can say, without hesitation, I've never seen rain like it. Ever.

A couple of times I thought of going down in the lift to the chemist about 10 metres away and I didn't dare go. The weather was too awful.

Yesterday afternoon, we decided to go into town (Kingscliff) to get some supplies. Roads were flooded, the rain still pelting down.

We turned into Chinderah and the Tweed River had swallowed half the road. We were forced to drive in the breakdown lane. Just after we slowly drove through, the cricket on the radio was interrupted by a somber voice telling us that the small town was being evacuated.

We got our supplies and headed back to the village we're staying in, having to turn back a couple of times as the roads were flooded.

As we pulled in our holiday home the rain stopped. Finally. The wind dropped.

We seized the moment and took to the beach. It was far too rough to swim, but we ran and played and soaked in the fresh air. It was glorious.

Later that night, the girls had gone to bed. I was settling D when I heard a sickening thud. Goosey had dived and whacked her forehead on the metal corner of the bunk beds. I came out to see her pale and a dribble of thick red blood running down her face.

Having knocked her head a few times before and sat in the ER with her, I knew she didn't have a bad concussion. The gash was deep and probably could have used some glue or a stitch. That would mean driving in rising flood water at night. Instead, we managed to patch her up quite well.

So not the best day of our holiday.

Two more sleeps and we're headed home. Fingers firmly crossed that we get some dry weather to enjoy here and then for a safe drive home.