During one of our occasional catch-ups over the phone this morning, I mused to Callum that, despite it being the 1st of October, it’s 30 degrees and blazing sunshine outside.
“Pretty much the same here, Mum”
Yes, but it’s supposed to be warm and sunny in South Australia, not up here on the other side of the Equator. Even the pool is warmer than the U.K where Mumo is currently visiting friends. Thankfully, the nights and early hours are cooler – enough at least for Arry, Alice, Sherman and I to get back on the running trials again. Four months is a long time to be hanging one’s trainers up as my body told me after the first 13k stint. I couldn’t even walk down the apartment stairs. The woofers, however, were primed and ready for the new season’s adventures although judging by the distance between Arry and that deer he flushed out – I’m not the only one needing to build up my stamina.
It’s not that I’m in any way inactive. Between looking after this place, swimming, boxing and hauling bits and bobs around the garden, I rarely get time to sit on my backside. Except that said backside has been sat on quite a lot this week as I got down to the fiddly job of painting my little canapé. Mind you, after a lot of contorting my sore muscles into all sorts of positions just so I could get to each metal button, I have to say my junk shop purchase is now very bling. Denis thinks I should go back to Adolphe’s and buy up the rest of his sofas and chairs, up do them and make a mint on Ebay. I just might.
As I mentioned earlier, Mumo is currently freezing her assets off in the old motherland. I’m reliably informed that the weather is unseasonably warm there too, although ‘teen degrees are not what Mumo would consider balmy. The ever-reliable Roy is looking after Mumo’s dog, Sappy, and I’ve managed to cook half-decent meals to keep us from starvation. That being said, Roy took Sappy back to his place on Friday – he feels more comfortable there I think and probably needs a lie-down after politely eating all my culinary inventions. So, little ol’ me has been on her lonesome all weekend, aside from over-heated dog hairiness panting all over the place. Well, that isn’t entirely true. Denis, his daughter Marina and I went out for pizza on Friday night, joined by our friends Saba and Roy and then it was the usual chill out at Abraham’s last night. Callum, being his father’s son and therefore ‘an eye on the money’ kind of man, questioned as to how I could afford to eat out so often – darling boy, this isn’t the city was my answer. Here, you can stuff yourself on 20 euros including a bottle of wine and anyway Denis never lets me pay – he says he’s just old-fashioned. And I don’t mind a bit.
I’ll be off to the airport tomorrow to pick up Mumo, I’ve missed her which is odd as, living in separate houses albeit attached ones, we don’t see much of each other during the day. But her cooking is better than mine and with my first three chapters back from Sally editor (for once, not too much red ink), I need her to bounce ideas off of. She’s very useful for that sort of thing. Luckily for her, this heat is due to be with us for another week so she will be able to defrost, this aided by the arrival of the chimney installers on Tuesday. Well, it is October after all. Before you know it, what leaves haven’t been burnt to a crisp will turn gold and I’ll be swearing about the ‘nip in the air’. The apartment will smell of soggy woofers and I’ll be checking my wellies for spiders. I’ll take another week of sun and swimming pools gladly thank you…
“The end of summer is not the end of the world. Here’s to October…” (A.A. Milne)
Widow plus woofs 