Letter from Espargal: 15 of 2010

Saturday morning: I write to you towards the end of a week that hasn’t gone entirely to plan.

Where to start? It’s drizzling. The sky is a patchwork of uncertain blue and grey. We’ve had a decidedly damp few days. Overnight the one-thousandth millimetre of rain this season deposited itself in the rain gauge. It’s only the second time since I started recording the rainfall towards the end of the last millennium that we’ve registered a 1000 mms. By our standards that’s a lot of rain, most of it welcome – by this resident, at least - in a region more often threatened by drought than flooding.

THE 1000TH mm

In one way the showers – and intermittent squalls – have been quite useful because I haven’t had to water the more sensitive parts of Jones’s garden, something I undertook to do when she set off on a flying visit to the UK earlier in the week. She should have been safely home again by this time but like multitudes of other unfortunates she is stranded, courtesy of a plume of volcanic ash from Iceland. At least she’s in the good hands of her family in Leamington Spa. She's rebooked for Monday but whether she’ll get home that day depends as much on the vagaries of Vulcan as on Ryanair.

ADMIRING THE ORCHIDS

Being a cautious fellow, I have assumed the worst and got in a new stock of yoghurt and muesli to see me through the next few days. Fortunately, Jones left me with a large (now depleted) pot of stew, a portion of which I have heated each evening and spread over the rice (that Jones also left me), which I am sharing with the dogs. I have also bought some more rice and, under the guidance of helpful neighbour, rendered it edible by pouring it into some hot water and letting it simmer. Cooking isn’t really my thing.

WHAT TO DO IN THE RAIN?

Another venture that hasn’t gone entirely to plan has been the purchase of a thin-screen TV (cum computer screen) for the lounge. We already have one there but at 26 inches (66 cm), it’s decidedly on the small side and we have to squint to see it form the dining room table. After much research, both online and en situ, I settled on an 80 cm model from a shop in Loule that has previously served me well.

The question was how to get it to the car. There was a private parking spot just outside the store but it proved too small. So I agreed with the young lady assisting me that she would box up the set – it was a display model – and that, having fetched the car, I would pause outside the store for a moment to load the TV into the boot – which I did.

The assistant, seeing me coming, hurried out carrying the box. Declining my help she headed for the car. But with the box in front of her, she didn’t see a lurking pothole, which tripped her up. She twisted her ankle and went flying. So did the box with the TV.

Having loaded the box myself and found parking nearby, I went back to find her shocked, in pain and being assisted by passers by. As there was nothing further I could do, I came home with the TV. Before I could test it, I found that the fall had damaged the plastic column separating the set from the base. So I repackaged it and have ordered a replacement model. This time I’ll let the shop do the installation and remove the damaged set.

MIRROR IMAGE

Natasha came to do an extra day on Friday – designed to present Jones with a sparkling house on her return from the UK. With 30 minutes to spare before the Loule bus, we dropped in on the Coral for a cup of coffee. On the way back I heard an ominous clatter from the front wheel and stopped the car to retrieve a half-inch nail from the tyre. I doubted that I’d make it home before the wheel went flat but I did. And the tyre was still good this morning when we set out to walk in the valley.

THE NAIL

For the rest, life continues: the usual round of cats and dogs, working with Nelson (on our one dry day) and chores - Jones’s as well as mine although I’m not complaining.

Our commuting neighbours, David and Sarah, returned from the Isle of Wight for a month’s stay in their cottage, just across the field. I dropped round with the hounds to see them the afternoon the arrived, only to wake the poor souls up. They’d had virtually no sleep the previous night. Under the circumstances they were quite polite to me as they tried to make conversation and hide their yawns.

As I say, the week hasn’t gone entirely to plan.