The summer scorch has arrived. The grass has all but disintegrated, leaving nothing but bare earth and spiky stalks over the garden and the woofers reduced to flopping under the trees or in Sherman’s case, under the pool deck. Clever dog. My days can be spent gorging on plums and strawberries whilst I potter sluggishly around the grounds, the evenings are still a battle between me and the damn hose reel. There is little point in trying to plant anything as the ground is like cement at the moment although Denis did manage to stuff a very large cactus near the pool house. I put together a sort of Turkish bed affair in my little apartment jardin, complete with sail shade so that I might have somewhere cool to doze in but naturally it’s already covered in paw prints. I think I put it there more for aesthetics than actual use as I can’t sit still for long enough to reap the benefits. Thank the Gods for the pool, even if the water temperature is only a few degrees lower than the space above it. Arry and I can burn off our excess energy since running up hills is out of the question. The only downside to having such a luxury is having to clean the skimmer nets loaded with dead insects every morning – not a ritual I look forward to.
We have had guests all week, Greta and Gareth who have been friends of Mumo’s since their New York years. Having travelled around Europe, we were the last stop before they headed back to Canada so provided the relaxation bit of their holiday. With all the work Denis and I have done over the last few months to make the garden and courtyard places you want to sit and read a book in or have a snooze, it’s been worth all the sweat seeing hammocks and benches occupied. Spending the evenings spent chatting over a few bottles of wine and Mumo’s cooking, I haven’t had the chance to write anything over the week – I’m surprised at how much I am missing my tap tapping. Still I’ve got a couple of weeks ahead of me to catch up before Rene, my bestie, arrives.
There is, as always, still a lot of work to be done in both the house and the garden. The Capricorne specialists have cleared the beams of insects in both abodes and are busy doing the same in the garage. Luckily, they haven’t found too much damage in the roof itself – just a bit of retiling here and there. Now that the old tank and boiler have gone, I need to get in and start plastering up the holes in the utility room walls – not the most desirable of jobs in the heat but at least I will be inside. The lovely Lionel’s truck broke down so the gates aren’t fitted yet but he assures me they’ll be done in the next few days. It’s just as well as I need him to do some minor alterations to the main fence – Sherman has discovered the art of digging under it. As much as I admire his ingenuity, I don’t think our guests like their mid-afternoon kip disturbed by a Border terrier shouting ‘liberté, égalité, fraternité’ around the front garden….
“If you’re not bare-footed, then you’re over-dressed” (Unknown)
Widow plus woofs 