1/6/2007 – Friday
Lots of showers, some sunny intervals, otherwise normal if it were April.
White Rabbits! Well it’s the first of June and I usually forget to say “White rabbits” on the first of the month for good luck, but today I didn’t so it’s worth noting.
It’s the first of June but you wouldn’t notice by the weather. On the global front there may be warming, but on the local front the weather is more like April than June. Ilka & I discussed this the other day and we decided that each year the months get together to decide when they want to appear. This year, April has clearly made a pact with another month, and I suspect it’s June. I mean, April was a glorious, hot, uninterrupted sun-drenched month – which is unusual for Aprils in the northern hemisphere, and more like a good June. So clearly April decided to go on holiday in April and left her showers for … well I suspect it’s going to be June. May was a normal May, and she usually gives us one glorious week of good sunshine and temperatures which have certainly been apparent around these parts. So clearly May lost out in the month negotiating and had to stay where it was expected to be, but April was hot hot hot, in the way that June or July should usually be with no showers whatsoever. So for the moment it looks like April has swapped places with June. So that means that April’s showers and temperatures are coming now, which is a bit disappointing because I’m 1000km south of lousy England weather and I really would expect something better.
I demand an Indian summer!
Anyway … woke up to heavy showers and so I wasn’t really motivated to do much. After breakfast and an April shower of my own it was already 11am and far too late to contemplate any shopping or starting any grand projects. So I started with the essentials and did my washing – hanging my smalls out of April’s grasp under the canopy to dry – and then looked around indoors for things to do. Fortunately the job list I’d made yesterday was still legible so I decided to tackle the tiling around the basin. This may sound easy to the uninitiated, but as usual it involved every tool I’ve ever owned ever – plus a few more that I had to invent for the job. To start with I had to cut some wood and drill some holes and mix some cement, and that alone gave me enough distractions to find another dozen jobs that needed doing and add to the list.
In short, the job was started satisfactorily. I also did some woodworm treatment downstairs, and filled-in a load of holes upstairs with a mortar mix where I suspect the r*ts are coming in. They are almost history now, the r*ts I’m sure of it. I can hear no more scratching or scurrying, and they’ve stopped taking the poison bait. So now with the holes plugged-up with superior grade mortar I’m hoping that will be the end of them.
Tried to start the van today but the battery was still flat despite a full day of charging. I was really disappointed, because it probably means the battery is really buggered rather than just being discharged, and that means I need to use more inventive methods to start the van. Ludwig (a.k.a. Beethoven –the new van) won’t fit down the driveway far enough to be able to jump start the old van, and I don’t want to risk removing the battery from perfectly-good-working-order-no-problem-at-all Mercedes van in order to start knackered-old Vauxhall van. So for the moment the Vauxhall clogs-up the driveway untidily until I come-up with a starting solution. At least it’s a clean white/rusty van though!
Made a start at fixing the barn door this evening. This will entail dovetailing-in a new bit of wood to strengthen the hinge and for the moment I only had time to remove the door completely so I could get at it. Then a strange hunger set in. This is the problem with living on my own – every time I start a job I realise that it’s dinner/lunchtime and I really need to prepare something to eat. So I didn’t get very far.
I was also interrupted by the nephew of Monsieur Tronche who dropped by to try and sell me his mother’s house that has been on the market for a year or so. He showed me some pictures and described it all to me and asked me if I knew any stupid Engleesh that might like it. It’s a huge rambling old mansion and I asked how much it was and he asked me to guess. “errrrrrrrr 200,000?” I said. “What euros?” he replied in a way that suggested I didn’t realise the value of his family’s pied-a-terre. Nom he’s asking 400,000 for it, so I guess that’s all of my friends out the running. Who’d want a rambling old French house in need of renovation in the middle of nowhere for that price? No .. not me this time! For that money I could buy a 3-bed semi on a busy road in Mid-Sussex.
Had a quick word with young Mr Tronche next door this evening. He’s retired, but getting-up at 4.30am tomorrow morning to go to a market to sell his strawberries. He doesn’t need to but he seems to enjoy that sort of thing. He tells me that tomorrow’s weather forecast is for much of the same. I suggested he spend the day in bed instead, and he laughed. Perhaps I’m missing something.
