Weekend trivia
Good morning and a happy new week to you. A few new photos from a stroll and other events, a couple of quick tales, and then I must get back to what I was doing.
It’s about time for a waterworks update. As you may have read, this on-going work isn’t affecting us, or at least, it’s not affecting our water supply… So far. The workmen, two affable chaps who turn up after they have finished their day jobs and fiddle about up on the roof. I sometimes see them on their way to work, riding in the back of a flatbed heading up the mountain. They don’t usually arrive at our house until five, and if we are out, we leave the gate off the latch to save them climbing over the wall. On Friday, they arrived early. That in itself is not a problem, and I was at home. Unfortunately, I was at home in the shower and covered in soap and shampoo. ‘Perimeni!’ I shouted through the bathroom window into the courtyard – wait! A quick scramble and I opened the gate to them wearing soap suds and a towel. They were apologetic, but not as apologetic as I should have been looking like Christopher Biggins in a bathhouse. I was laughing and told them not to worry, returning to my shower as they clambered up to the roof. A little later, I went out and left them to it.
That evening, we had guests to dinner, and I was concerned that the plumbers might be doing their thing above while we sat at the courtyard table, but when we came home, they had gone. The conversation did turn to the on-going work, and I mentioned that our only issue was a drip on the mains pipe when the water came in. Luckily, one of our guests was (and still is) the kind of man who is handy around the house. ‘I could fix that if I had a spanner and some tape,’ he foolishly offered. ‘It just so happens that I have just the thing,’ I replied. The leak was fixed before we’d finished the salad. Nice.
I found the time for a walk early on Saturday morning, wrote a few thousand words and, on Sunday, was up to go to the bathroom at three, and, on returning to the bedroom, was wide awake. So, it’s 8.50 as I write this yesterday, and I have 4,000 words down already. The body wants to sleep, but the mind won’t let it; that’s the reason I wake so early. My subconscious is still thrilled the fact that I don’t need to wake up at any particular time, and also excited that it doesn’t matter when I get up and start work. It interrupts my dreams as if saying, ‘You’ve had your four hours, now up and look sharpish.’ I rather like it.
That’s the news this Sunday/Monday morning. Now I am returning myself to the North Wales coast (imagined) and a semi-ruined lighthouse where a Ukrainian horseman and an English viscount are keeping watch for despicable villains.
