"Raindrops keep falling on my bed..."

Water woes have been traditional to my tellings of Basecamp Rooftop, and this tale can be no different. Our plight is much like the water-logged streets of Tamil Nadu; except that the logging is not so much underfoot as overhead.

The oft-changing geography, of our rooms, reflects the waxing and waning of the rains. "October Showers" be dam*ed, these skies have burst a seam somewhere! And so, apparently, has our ceiling. And hence the steady attendance of drips, plops and drops, on a variety of surfaces, like a percussion band in a constant state of tune-up.

My carpets are rolled up, and propped against the wall, their place taken by buckets, pails and papers. Sodden papers, that is. Our beds are constantly diapered in plastic sheets, like an incontinent baby in reverse. And our electricals are shorting, leaving us lit by candles and washing in freezing cold water (there's the darn water, again!).

Nothing like the rains to toss a perfectly good house into complete disarray!

Which same is an utter and complete understatement.