Yesterday, I was working on organising our annual health MOTs, merrily trying to arrange the first major appointments for the 25th, forgetting that it is a National Holiday (Independence Day), so I’m having to start again this morning – hey ho! Old age, probably. Better get that checked out, too.

There’s no need to worry, we do this every year and have done so for about the last nine or ten years. At the momen,t I am under a private health insurance plan, and must be for another four years, or for as long as I can afford it. I am also insured under the Greek national health system via Neil’s contributions, but that only covers me for as long as he stays employed by someone else, and as that’s never 100% guaranteed, I need my private insurance as a fall-back. This is in case he should ever be unable to work or unable to find a job during the next four years. In other words, if I don’t send the husband out into the rice fields or down the tin mine for at least the next four years, my national entitlement stops, and without the private policy, I might not be covered. I’m too far into it and too far along the road to stop the private one now and try to get back to it later if needed. I’d lose my equivalent of a no-claims bonus, I guess.

Anyway, as part of my policy, we get a whole set of tests done for a pre-paid, set price, and it includes the services of our insurance lady, who will make the arrangements for us, and/or help me set everything up, so, bearing in mind yesterday’s confusion, I may just ask her to take over. Might be safer, eh? Besides that, with nothing of any consequence to report, I have an end-of-the-week gallery for you, with five recent photos and five older ones mixed together. The older five were taken at various times of the year, though I think most are at least a couple of years old. Have a good weekend.

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That’ll teach me to have an early(ish) night. Up at 4.30 as bright as a brass button that fell off a garment 60 years ago and has lain beneath a floorboard ever since. First things first, of course, and a cup of tea. Thanks to generous donations last year, I had enough ‘proper’ tea to last me until Bucharest at New Year, and now I’m back to the breakfast tea, which, this season, surprised me, because it is stronger than before. We have also moved on in the kettle department. Our last kettle was a poor pourer, and when you poured, so did it, in the cup and on the worksurface alike. It also had an unreliable lid, which didn’t always remain closed, thus the thing would keep boiling until turned off manually. This was the same maladjusted behaviour as shown by the kettle before that, which was the same make and model, because we never learn, and the only way to prevent the lid from popping up was to weigh it down with a statue of Hercules and Diomedes having a wrestle.

I have no idea why I told you that, but here’s a recent photo of the Pedi valley by way of compensation.

Meanwhile, the days pass in winter-to-spring mode, because it’s a little warmer and drier now than it was in January and February. Workmen and craftsmen are back building and renovating houses. Others are employed in fixing the road, and other municipal enterprises, and the all-year cafes and tavernas are still going. We walked past the International the other day and smelt the cooking. We’d have stopped in for lunch had it not been 9.30 in the morning. We’re thinking about starting to consider spring cleaning the house, but there may yet be more rain, so we will probably wait, or else find another excuse to do it another day. We’re also starting to sort out our annual health MOT as we get each year under our health insurance. If all goes to plan, we’ll spend a day in Rhodes doing some basic tests, and then arrange the consultants, hopefully for the following week, and do them all on the same day or stay over for a night and make it a Club Med(ical) holiday. ‘Another month’ was Yiannis’ line to Neil yesterday, so he’ll be back at work before we know it, and I have my office shutters open for the first time in weeks. Spring is looking up.

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There was great excitement in the house yesterday, because I actually left it and walked down to Yialos. I’ve been bent over the typowriter for the past couple of weeks, and haven’t put my head above the parapet much, but yesterday, I made an exception. A power cut was due at eight, which came along, leaving me to work only by the light of the PC screen and as I can’t type coherently in daylight and what with shutters closed against the cold, and no power… The only thing to do on these occasions is to get on with the housework, without water unless previously saved in a bucket, or to sit and read. There is the allure of the phone-scroll to avoid, if possible, the sweeping to do, tidying the cupboard, throwing things away, sorting out the courtyard, reading some more, doing a puzzle, talking to each other, cleaning the windows, whatever. You know, it’s hard to get by without power, because there’s nothing to do. Except take a walk to Yialos.

It was a beautifully clear and calm day, I didn’t need a coat or jacket, and there was a delivery to pick up from the post office, so off we went at about half eight or just after, took a stroll past the DEH guys working around telegraph poles at the top of the Kali Strata, and wandered down. And around to the large supermarket we always call ‘Sam’s Supermarket’ because he used to work there – we said hello to him with a wave because he is currently helping out at a waterfront café. From there, to the backstreets of Yialos to buy vegetables, because decent stuff is becoming rarer in the village this winter, thence to the post office for a warm greeting and a delivery, and on to Pacho’s to see if I could find George, the water controller, but he wasn’t there. A hello to the dentist taking his coffee at the herb shop, and a pop into the pharmacy to collect something for a tickly cough, and to receive a wedding invitation for June, as you do… We’ve known the family some time, and always ask the daughter (the pharmacist) how her parents and brother are doing, and all are doing well, thank you, and George is getting married in May at Panormitis, and we shall receive an invitation. Blimey. Last time I looked, he was still at school and being rebellious, and now…

Tempus fugit, and it continued [to] fugere as we negotiated the roadworks towards the new carpark, which was the taxi rank and quayside, the bus stop and beyond (there’s no traffic into the harbour from beyond the taxi rank at the moment, bikes can use the back streets and cut-through), and found Konstantinos and his mates already at work, so we took a taxi back up. We arrived home discussing how to get a, b, and c done in the dark, when the lights came back on. The power cut ended early for us, and its timing couldn’t have been better. I still didn’t get any typo work done, but that is this morning’s task.

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Another point-and-laugh at AI today, or at those who use it to scam. This morning, I received a very professional-looking email from something called Smart Promotion for Meaningful Books. As soon as I see ‘I came across [Title of Book[ …’ I know it’s not real. In this case, they had read the blurb for The Eastling (one of the old Saddling mysteries), and wanted to add it to a Goodreads list they manage, or something. All I had to do was reply and say ‘Yes.’ But I ignored it for a couple of reasons. Mainly, because it was another piece of AI-generated hopelessness put together from my own blurb and genuine reviews, and secondly, she/it/they/whichever used the phrase, reaching out.

Ah, you think, perhaps it was genuine, and what’s the harm in replying? The harm is that the machine then keeps sending you 100 other similar emails with slightly different wording. Secondly, the opening line proves this person/thing/whatever has not done its research. The email opens with: I hope Greece is treating you kindly, and that the deaf cat is approving your latest plot twists.

You can pick up that info from my Amazon author page – which reminds me, I should take off the bit about having a deaf cat because he died years ago.

Anyway, moving on… We’re having another power cut this morning from eight until one in our area, the Kali Strata and other locations nearby so I can’t hang around. I must go and prepare for that. That means, I’ve got to get in a whole morning’s worth of Tea in the next hour. No, actually, because we have the camping stove to use. More importantly, I need to get some work done and prepare to decamp to the kitchen, which, at the moment, is about the only room with an open shutter and natural light. So, I’ll not hang around, but I’ll put up a couple more of Neil’s photos and hopefully, be more chatty tomorrow.

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We’ve enjoyed a quiet, calm, blue-sky, sunny kind of weekend, with the temperature in the sitting room on Saturday evening reaching a balmy 13° after having a heater on most of the day, and the office staying at 10° no matter what. Morning routine: Windows and door open for an hour or so while we go about starting the day – it blows the damp out of the house, and saves trying to heat the whole place to dry it out. Obviously, weather permitting, but it’s been lovely, if chilly.

A slight downside. The young soldier who lives downstairs has gone on leave, and we miss hearing him laughing and singing on his phone every night, but, unfortunately, he went away and left a tap dripping. This means the shared water pump on our bathroom roof is kicking in every 14 minutes. Yes, I timed it. It’s not using any water to speak off, because it only takes a couple of drips and the pressure falls, so the pump reacts, but it’s always the same sound at the same pitch. I can hear it from anywhere in the house, and it does it all day and night. So, I thought I’d do something about that…

For a long-story reason, our pump is plugged into a wall socket in the storeroom above the kitchen. This was a temporary measure put in place by our late landlord about seven years ago, and it works just fine. It also means, I can isolate the pump by unplugging it when not needed, but this means going outside, up a spiral staircase and up a huge step into the storeroom – each time. So, when this drip thing happens, we plug the pump into an extension cable which runs down to the bathroom, where we can unplug it when we don’t need it.

However, the door to the storeroom had swollen in the rain, so there was no way I was getting in there without a fight and some skullduggery… But I managed it, plugged in the new, controllable arrangement, and then couldn’t get the door shut again. Not without more banging with this and grumbling about that. Trying to move a snib 2 mm so the door will close is not as easy as it sounds, not when you only have one multi-purpose tool and no idea. Still, I got it to lock, and blissfully, I only hear the pump running when I know it is being used. The chap below will be back eventually and hopefully, he’ll give that naughty tap down here one last twist and shut it off. He’s moving out at the end of this month, by which time he will have just got the hang of it, only to be replaced by someone else, who may not.

Anyway, that’s how the week is starting here, and here’s what it looked like over the weekend.

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