The demise of Figless Manor

When I first moved to America, eight years ago, I had never experienced storms like the storms I found in Connecticut. Of course, as everyone knows, it rains all the time in England, but it’s a grey, drizzly rain, not the pelting, angry torrential downpours I found here, that regularly brought trees and powerlines crashing to the ground, that was so intense if you had to go out in in, you couldn’t drive at any pace other than a crawl or you couldn’t see anything.

The wind would howl, and our firs