Fixing memories.

                            

When I was small (and even today) I try to fix certain good-time memories into my head.

For example, if one day my whole body/soul feels really great, I try to remember exactly how that felt. Sitting by the pool, sipping a glass of rouge, I try to record that for future occasions when things may not be the same.

My original childhood idea was that when I had a cold, or was feeling just plain ill, I would recall what life was like when things were perfect. I'm not sure if this ever worked, because when you're feeling 'down' it's difficult to see life otherwise.

Yesterday evening I was enjoying a glass of wine by the pool; the temperature had cooled to about 25 C, there was total silence, Bok was sleeping at my feet, and, for a while, everything seemed absolutely perfect. If (when) one day I should succumb to permanent illness or disablement, it will be yesterday afternoon that I shall try to recall.

I hope that you all have plenty of those moments!

It's all right for some!

Travelling half way around the world, by boat, plane, train, and car, is tiring; especially for a one-year-old.

Bunny has now recovered, and is back to his quiet contented self (mostly).

Here he is enjoying a short 'power nap' in the excessive heat of yesterday afternoon.

Sleeping like the proverbial baby!

And up at the barn they now have electricity.Yippee.

End of an Era.

                                      

I never thought I'd see the day when Land Rover would decide to scrap production of their 'Defender' model; but they have.

There is no question that were uncomfortable dinosaurs, but they were much loved by farmers, the military, African safari-goers, and even HM The Queen.

So, what will replace the much loved Defender? No doubt some big Japanese manufacturer is rubbing his hands with glee, and has already begun designing the perfect replacement vehicle.

I remember years ago going to the local cattle market in Shropshire, and seeing row upon row of Defenders (each with an accompanying horse trailer) in the car park; there must have been several hundreds of them. It was as if no self-respecting farmer ever drove anything else.

So, why have Land Rover abandoned such a huge British 'institution', and a design that dates back to the late 1940's; have they gone mad?

The Long and the Short of Prongs.

Wills thinks that the prongs on our 'daily usage' forks (above) are too long. I have no idea how he came across this interesting observation, but he was most adamant.

I suggested that there was not (as yet) a European standard length for fork prongs, and maybe he could do some research into the subject. Maybe if he came to some firm conclusions he could then submit his findings to the 'European Fork Prong Length Politburo', and they would look into the matter.

In the meanwhile I did offer to cut down a fork for him, but he's still undecided as to the perfect length. Maybe I should make several all of differing lengths, and he could make his own choice.

Personally I've always rather liked 3 pronged forks; but that's a whole other can of worms.

Another Milestone.

The downstairs bathroom, at the barn, is now finished and is serviceable; although we'll probably change the hand basin tap; it's not right, is it. The hole above the window is for an extractor fan, which has since been installed.

The bog flushes, there is hot (solar heated) water in the taps, and the lovely big shower-head has fulfilled all its promises.
                                                 

The main bathroom will be bigger and more luxurious, but we're leaving that one until after summer.

In case you were wondering, the stone tiles and mosaics we used are Travertine; as employed to build The Colosseum (and all other major buildings) in Rome.

The next major job is to buy and fit all the kitchen units. We've done the plans, all that's now needed is to pop down to Ikea in Toulouse, select the stuff they want, and put it all together.

Kellogg's mother, sister, and brother are flying over from Sweden in a week's time, so whilst en route to the airport Wills and Kellogg will visit the Ikea store to make their choice.

Otherwise, the only other barn excitement is that they now have push-button ice cubes from the fancy new fridge.

Of course the work is still nowhere near completed, but Wills and Kellogg decided to move in last night. The electrical supply will be turned-on on Thursday. All very exciting for them.

Me? I'm still bloody plastering. Will it ever end!

Depressed again.

                                   

I'm just a fucking painter. I've never earned much money; in fact I've had more bloody work stolen from me than I've ever sold.

I live a simple life. Through bloody hard work I've managed to create a pleasant home from what was originally a tumble down one room ruin.

I grow most of what I eat, and have just about buggered my back in the cultivation process.

I have planted gawd-knows how many fruit trees, which will provide food for generations to come.

I don't poison the land, I don't drop litter, and I don't buy foods (or as little as possible) that have flown around the world several times.

In my own eyes, I try to be a 'good' person. I have never committed a crime, killed anyone, or been a drain on society. I'm that guy who helps old ladies across the road, and holds doors open for unappreciative women as they enter a shop. I do these things simply because that is how I was taught to behave.

But, where has all this got me! Nowhere really; when I pop my clogs I will simply become another name on a small piece of French stone. Someone of no importance, who probably wasted his life in the pursuit of an ideal.

I have been teetotal for the last 3 months. Last night I'd had enough, and returned to being an old soak. Now I'm regretting it.

So, another week begins. I have an old friend coming to stay tomorrow. She is a very 'live wire', so all will be well again.

Geraniums.

I was always led to believe that over-wintering Geraniums was difficult, well this obviously isn't the case. If I can do it; anyone can!

I only have these two pots of Geraniums, but they've now survived for about 5 years.

In early winter (before the frosts) I bring them indoors, and cut them back to as close to the roots as possible, whilst preserving a few of the leaves.

Their watering is kept to a minimum, and frankly I just ignore them for the few months they're indoors.

And voila; I have green fingers after all. Don't they look great?