It is an ordinary life that’s for sure. I love it – not an adventure in sight unless you count a new bathroom. An ordinary life well lived – that’s what I am really aiming for – for me an adventure may mean a crisis, and we have had our share of those nasty things, and now at this time of my life a familiar and gentle life, comfortably lived, will suit me fine.
So this week’s missive is a tale with not an adventure in sight; but lots going on, plumbers, a plasterer with disconcerting home and away eyes, the tiling chappie, some sort of line dancing, some photos and a parasol.
Yes it’s up – the parasol out t’back , so summer is really here and salad is the lunch time feast sitting under it.
On Monday we shared our salad under the said parasol with a lovely couple from South Africa who have a barge on the canal here, and are about to set off in it on their travels around France. It is good to have a glimpse into other people’s lives now and then.
Don’t ask me how I met them…it’s another one of those ‘kidnapping tales’ – I hope the couple from Preston are reading this so they know they aren’t the only ones who get accosted by the mad English woman who can talk a glass eye to sleep!
And as for the plumber – he came with his deep voiced good looking son and with plenty of banging they ripped out the old bathroom, but the walls proved not to be straight so a plasterer was found at short notice…
Said plasterer swore and shouted and seemingly jackhammered the floor up, but worked tirelessly until 7pm…
and our sometimes tidy cobwebby cottage became a tip!
The tiler is here as we speak, and says he will be here till next Tuesday…there’s a lot of preparation work and floor levelling going on…But I am convinced it will be so worth it – even after a few days of showering in the sloping camper van and knowing there’s at least another week to go.
Actually showering me over there isn’t so bad, but when the dog had rolled in the unmentionable… and a huge, and I mean HUGE, bee had flown in and all three of us were trapped in that tiny space and all three of us were panicking – the bee perhaps most of all – that’s what worried me… I ricked my back, the bee escaped as I opened the skylight, the dog took the opportunity to jump out and shook herself everywhere! What a good job she is a small dog.
And as for last night’s line dancing…
I had not practiced enough – that much was obvious… and the strikers had closed the main road into town – so I thought I would be very late; no burning tyres though, thank goodness, those of you who know France will also know that a ‘manifestation’ usually leads to burning tyres and a great deal of black smoke and air pollution.
Because I had not practiced enough towards the end I thought ‘what on earth am I doing here, with my two left feet and no sense of rhythm – I shall not come again’… and then for the last dance a young woman came and stood by me and tried talking me through it – how kind! It wasn’t her fault that I can easily confuse left and right in English and therefore haven’t a hope in french – so of course I shall go next week and I shall practice more. Hmm!
And yes, I really should be doing some ironing – or a million other things, instead of writing this rubbish…
…but the birds are getting so used to us now it seems a pity not to sit and watch them.
There is a family of nuthatches – such big feet!