Home alone
Well I’ve been home alone for a few days now, so I thought I’d better check the list that Mrs B left me, to make sure I have done everything I’m supposed to. Turns out I’ve done none of them, so I’d best make a start.
Top of the list, and bottom as well come to mention it, was watering the plants. Luckily I didn’t need to do that, despite the fact it’s been close on 40 degrees for ages and ages, because last night we had a ‘terrible storm’ warning. The canicule (heatwave) was going to give way to ferocious winds, thunder and lightning, hail and rain. Well, not ideal, but kind of makes watering unnecessary.
Well, I didn’t see so much as a flash, a flicker, or a raindrop. Still hot, still sunny. If I slept through it (which I usually do if truth be told) it hadn’t left the ground wet, yet alone flooded. So today I’ve been watering – well, hosing dead sticks would be a better description – so I can tick that off the list.
Put the bins out. Usually I take them to a municipal skip but as I’m without a car and I can’t carry five big bags of rubbish on my bike, I left them out for the rubbish collectors. Well done, I congratulated myself. Then this morning came and I remembered that in the summer the rubbish collection is a day earlier than in the winter. So off I tootled down the driveway and brought them all back again.
Now, what to do with five enormous bags of rotting bits and bobs. I can assure those of you that live in Iceland that when it is hot, sacks of rotting meat and other rubbish become unpleasant after a day or two (I’ll spare you the details). Two weeks? I dread to think. So, I threw all environmental and other concerns out the window, and set off for the far end of the field where I had a huge bonfire waiting to happen, chucked all the rubbish on top and set fire to it. Yes I know, burning plastic and the like is not very sensible but what choice did I have?
Anyway, assuming the people in the gites didn’t see my strange behaviour, it seemed to work quite well. Obviously having a bonfire when it’s 40 degrees in the shade is not altogether an enjoyable experience, but I got over it. No problem at all, until about 6.00 this evening when the fire sparked up again and acrid smoke drifted across the pool and the happy children playing in it. I marched around with a packet of merguez sausages and pretended I was having trouble lighting a barbecue, which seemed to convince everyone that everything was in hand.
I scarcely dare look what comes next on the list. I think eating was there somewhere, but that’s a bit boring when I’m on my own so I tend to have a big bowl of pasta at 10pm when I remember I am supposed to feed myself. Can’t imagine I’ll starve to death though so that shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll have another look at the list in the morning.
And if you are reading this and coming to stay at our gites in the near future, please be aware that I use artistic, or is it poetic, licence in my descriptions for the general amusement of myself and both of my regular readers. All is well, honest – no dead plants and no burning rubber!