I think I might need to change the title of this blog to ‘thewidowpluswoofersandafatmouse’. Having finally come face to face with GusGus sitting happily in my recycling bin, I was a little shocked at the size of his girth (no I cannot sex mice but I feel he is a he) – how on earth he can squeeze through the hole in the back of the cupboard is beyond me. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t moved out, slim going in, too fat to go back. With this in mind and his penchant for chewing holes in the bin bags, I decided GusGus needed a health kick. Having put a piece of apple and a few croquettes (dry dog food) on the inside shelf overnight, I pulled the drawer open the next day only to find the uneaten fruit minus the biscuits and most of the bin bag. Oh well, as long as he’s happy filling his belly with plastic I suppose GusGus is here to stay. You’d think having four terriers in the house would be helpful but they don’t seem to notice him which is surprising considering how much time Alice spends hunting the same creatures outside.
Considering the weather, GusGus probably thinks staying in the cupboard is the best option anyway. I’m sure I have had what is known as Seasonal Affected Moodiness all week, that is except yesterday when the rain actually stopped. For one day. Bless Lionel and Denis, they turned up at dawn to carry on constructing the pool terrace managing to finish all but the main deck. Chatting over beers at the end of the day made me think how much I enjoyed having the two of them around with their constant banter and easy-going natures. Both are also incredibly patient French teachers, fine-tuning my accent and trying not to break into hysterics when I mis-pronounce my r’s. Denis has assured me that the sun will make an appearance next week and all things piscine will be finished. I’ve heard that before. They have to stick around for a while anyway as there is still much to be done before the summer hits and let’s face it, the woofers especially Arry, think the whole purpose of men working is to amuse them.
I went to have a couple of biopsies on my lump mid-week at the radiology clinic in Carcassonne. I had thought they were going to cut my ganglion out but the radiologist said it was a bit too close to my boob (since I don’t have much in that department, a wise decision) but she took what she needed and I’ll get the results from Dr Lefevre in due course. As I left, the receptionist gave me a folder with some fetching pictures of my armpit to add to my growing collection of radiographs pertaining to ganglions – what does one do with them all? Perhaps I’ll frame them and hang them in the loo to confuse guests.
I haven’t written much of The Book this week mainly because my older brother is here and because I’m still improving the chapter that Carmen sent back. Annoyingly, my brain’s preference for writing in the middle of the night hasn’t dissipated so I’m suffering from lack of sleep hours. And since I tend to put ‘pen to paper’ best when I’m moving, I’m getting as much exercise pacing up and down the balcony as I do running up the hills – neither of which makes you want to doze off. At least GusGus isn’t too bothered about my nocturnal activities, he’s too busy crocheting bin bags…..
“Tonight I’m going to lay right here and look up. I like it.” (Of Mice and Men. John Steinbeck)
Widow plus woofs 