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from Romany Quilting
Our last night in the South Island was quite a worry. A storm came rolling in as the day wore on, and was fully fledged by night time. We could swear that the thunder was right over head, and each noisy clap spooked Gemma. She ran around the van looking for a hiding place, hunkering down on the carpet at the foot of the bed, with the overhanging duvet giving her the illusion of cover. Lightening cracked around us, torrential rain came down, and the caravan was buffeted all night by strong wind gusts. Dear oh dear, what would our ...
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