If March doesn’t start behaving itself, we are going to have a falling out very soon. I know the month has just started but its not very nice to throw glorious sunshine at us on the first day, then decide we ought to be miserable and wet for the rest of the week. Just as Lionel and Denis were making great strides in laying the pool terrace down, everything stopped because of the weather. It’s all incredibly frustrating but power tools and pissing skies don’t mix and I am rather fond of my guys. The only plus side is that I have gone on a bit of a plant shopping binge and the terre is much easier to dig holes in when soggy. Arry and Sherman take particular delight in anything that involves mounds of earth they can bury bones and rocks in whilst you are trying to make space for a rose or three. Mum turning over compost is even more fun especially when she’s trying not to wake up spiders. According to Yogi Bear, its a bit like going to a department store and trying all the different perfume testers. Less Chanel, more champignon I would suggest. Rain for them apparently, does not stop play.
Luckily the temperature hasn’t matched the skies, staying in the double digits as I forgot to check the oil reservoir so the heating went off. Bless Max the chauffagiste who answered my call of desperation and booked a delivery which arrived a couple of days later. Mind you, his ‘c’est pas grave’ meaning ‘it’s not serious’ was obviously not directed at Mumo. Anything under 25 degrees means freezing to her and the rising cost of oil (yes, we are hit like everyone else) made my cheque book faint. Roll on Spring and Max putting the solar panels on. I did have a visit from the diminutive force of nature that is Pauline, she who created the beautiful walls on the ground floor of the main house, I’d asked her to look at my space ‘upstairs’ as a renovation project. Pauline oohed and ‘oui’d’ at my grand plans and booked me into her diary. Next year. As much as I would have liked construction to start earlier, there is far too much to complete garden-wise, let alone the bloody pool. That and I have learnt that everything that needs to be ordered takes months to be delivered so better to stockpile than twiddle thumbs waiting.
I finally managed to get the first three chapters of The Book emailed to darling Carmen, after all it was her idea that I should put the last few years on paper. I have to admit they were very difficult to write, bringing up all those memories so I’m hoping the rest will flow a little easier. No doubt my first attempts will come back littered with red ink but I’m starting to enjoy being a ‘writer’. Penning the blog is so much easier, it’s short and you don’t have page numbers – who knew computers could do that automatically? Once I had put numbers at the bottom of each page, I discovered how little I’d actually written despite hours of tap tapping away. However, having changed my hours so to speak – no more falling asleep mid-sentence at midnight, I have a renewed sense of optimism that I shall finish before the next millennium , especially if the weather Gods have anything to do with it – that or it’ll make less smelly compost….
“When life throws you a rainy day, play in the puddles.” (Winnie the Pooh)
Widow plus woofs 