The monsoon season would seem to be over.
After six weeks of sunshine the temperatures dropped by almost 20°C and it rained almost none-stop for what seemed like the proverbial forty days and forty nights. Up in the hills where I live (950 m - as in '3/4 of the way up Snowdon's 1300 m') the rain is often accompanied by wind. And when I say wind I mean wind with a capital W!

The house I live in was built in 1788 to house a small farm with about twelve cows. The cow shed now houses bicycles and gardening tools.
The house is a typical Appenzeller house built entirely of wood. It was 'renovated' about twenty years ago, so now the floors in each room are level and most of the ceilings are too. Though the floors are all level, none of them are actually at the same level - this means my rooms are a series of steps running diagonally across the house - the highest in the front bedroom, the lowest I use as an office.
You would pay a fortune to rent most split-level flats. This one is quite reasonable.

The lowest door frame is 1.65 m and it took me almost a year to register the fact.
The scars are gone now!
The highest door frames just allow me to pass through without injury.

When the wind blows, the house starts to creak and groan all over. There are two rooms with their original beamed ceiling and walls and they make the loudest sounds. At the same time dust spills out from between the cracks in those ceilings and from the (treated) woodworm holes in the walls. At times the wind can howl eerily like a horror film, through one of the kitchen windows.

The other day, I had guests when the house started one of its more Oscar-worthy performances. My friends looked at each other in surprise. One of them jumped up in panic – at the noise, I presumed. He informed us he had to go home immediately, to prevent loss of some textiles, that were now airing too heftily.
He raised his wine glass in a final toast and smashed it's stem against the ceiling as he drank. I wasn't really too happy about that, even though it was amusing.
After apologising, my friend turned to leave and drove his forehead straight into the door frame with a resounding thud.

We just had to laugh! Some misdemeanours are punished immediately.
Mind your head!