IN a moment of what can only be described now as madness, I took off ALL my window latches when I moved into my cute cottage.

The years had not been kind and layers upon layers of black paint had worn away leaving harsh metal in places. Their ugliness hurt my eyes.

Of course that was several weeks ago and no, I haven't replaced them and no, I didn't give security a thought.

It was only when Storm Doris hit, I realised my mistake. All my beautiful, little windows crashed and banged as gale force winds swept through the entire house - incidentally, Sellotape is useless in these conditions.

Before I knew it, the 165 year-old panes of glass in my bedroom window shattered with one blowing clean away from its oak frame.

I felt like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz just before the tornado struck (Granny always said I resembled Judy Garland - hee), my bedroom had become a wind tunnel.

The former LOML (The Scarecrow) offered to "board up" my bedroom window.

"The last time you placed a piece of board over one of my windows, it stayed there for two years," I said over the phone. "The window tax was abolished 1,000 years ago."

My esteemed colleague (The Tin Man) just pointed and laughed for a very long time indeed.

"Oh, Bate you'll get it sorted," he said before showing me his new kayak. He then disappeared off to the coast.

Fortunately, the nice Projects Manager (male version of Glinda, the Good Witch of the North) turned up with a tiny pane of glass and fixed it in five minutes flat.