The wind in Cape Town at the weekend was next level, meting out quite a battering. Caravans were flipped off bridges and roofs torn off houses. But the Amityville Horror — the unofficial name of our family residence — stood fairly firm.

An early assessment showed just a few roof tiles strewn across the front lawn — remarkable considering the ominous groans, cracks and crashes when the wind was whipping violently at 2am on Monday. Prudently, I had secured the kids’ old trampoline, so this time I did not suffer the indignity of retrieving springs, poles and netting from the neighbour’s tree...

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