The man-child has been back a week and I’ve finally stopped hugging him every 5 minutes. It still feels weird not to check my mobile for messages every morning as has become a habit over the last couple of years – at least I know where he is now. In the workshop as if he’d never left. He’s already re-wired what was once a gloomy, can’t see what you’re doing space into a veritable DIY heaven and put all the tools back in their correct locations. The latter being mainly down to too many handymen in the lab. And it hasn’t just been all about fixing electrics and preparing doors for purpose, Callum’s also helped Denis trim the Virginia Creeper that covers the courtyard doors and facade even if D’s face turned a lighter shade of pale when my boy climbed to the top of the ladder in a pair of flip-flops. Obviously Cal’s endless talents in all things ‘tradie’ doesn’t include health and safety.
Luckily for Cal, it’s been a quiet week – he is still battling jet lag for one and we’ve had almost non-stop rain which has put pay to do anything much outside. Apart from a trip to L’Horte which was a bit of a shock for him, I’d forgotten that he hadn’t seen it since the Stable and garage were demolished and a couple of debit card- draining trips to various tool emporiums, I’ve left him in his place of worship amongst the sawdust and concentrated instead on up-cycling an old book case and even done a fair bit of writing. I’m trying not to think about getting the Second Book finished anytime soon – between the beautiful interruption of my son’s arrival and me having to get up at the crack of dawn to hit the trails, I’m still only on Chapter Four. Just sixteen to go.
Despite the early hour, running through the Autumnal red and gold vine-covered hills still never fails to bring sighs of awe, albeit peppered with swear words as I attempt to rid my shoes of the heavy, wet clay that loves to adhere to their soles. At least, so far, the extra weight prevents me from tripping over again – my knees have only just recovered from the last bruising. I’m hoping that the meteo is right about next week being dry and apparently warm as my girlies, Rene and Sophy, are flying in for a wild weekend Rouffiac style. Mumo suggested it might be nice for the three of us to have a quiet one catching up, yeah right. If my 3 plus years of living in this tucked away village has taught me anything, it’s that there’s always an excuse for a party. And an excuse to put the laptop away. Again…
““I just sit at my typewriter and curse a bit.” ( P.G. Wodehouse)
Widow plus woofs 