Another Lifetime to go

16th August 2019

The jobs I have to do seem so trivial, and I am lacking the motivation to do them. Fitting door knobs doesn’t require any element of skill, it’s just measure, drill and fit, that’s all.

Painting the trim in the porch doesn’t require any talent, it just another task on the list that gets ticked off. The weather was shite all day, so no watering of the plants is required, the weather in Holland is hot and sunny, but I’m not there to enjoy it.

I had Amilie and Ryan visiting to use the shower, it wasn’t that long ago I had to visit them for the very same reason.

So the balance is maintained. Louise had a problem with her car, the fuel pump had failed, so that had to be replaced. This took all the money she had made at the Trowbridge market, one step forward, and one back.

I wanted to archive some images off my phone in order to free up some memory. There were hundreds of them. Looking at photos used to be family entertainment, treasured events printed out. Digital images, similar to music has become just background wallpaper. We take millions of images and rarely look back at them, because there are so many, and we can’t be bothered, it’s easier to take a million more.

15th August 2019

Another trip on the bus to Bath. I had to return a frying pan that I had bought last week as it wasn’t suitable for induction hobs. I found some solar garden lights in Homebase that I snapped up. As soon as I got back I set them down the path. It gets really dark, so these small light sources will help a little. I also finished putting wooden plugs in the fixing holes of the sleepers.

Finally I removed all the greenery growing onto the extension roof, not one of my favourite tasks but another annual maintenance work.

I have opened up my bathroom for Ryan’s family to use whilst their own bathroom is being remodelled.

14th August 2019

My friend Dave came over for the day, so I had a day off from any work on the cottage. It is always a refreshing change to just sit in my space and not think about the small jobs that remain.

On the other hand, Kelli has been working her socks off buying up furniture to restore. I do expect to have a pile of things to work on when I finally get back.

13th August 2019

I drove down to Whitney on Wye to visit my friend Martin. The last time I had seen him things didn’t go well because his new Newfoundland puppy kept chewing my hand. This time was a little better because we all went for a walk to calm the dogs down.

The Newfoundland’s are so large, it’s tongue is as big as my face, and they don’t know their own strength, so I am always tense, and waiting for their mouth to close around my head.

Martin is not in great shape. He had an operation earlier in the year on his right shoulder to basically reattach his tendons. He now has a more movement, although not without pain. His left shoulder is the next one to be operated on. This one is far more complex to repair, requiring more metal fixings. He is on high doses of morphine to help relieve his agonising pain.

I have become numb to his suffering, I cannot give him the sympathy he demands, and I do not feel guilty about it. This may seem cold and heartless but over the years I have been drained by his “I wish I was dead” attitude. I have told him I will support him in what ever he wishes to do with his life.

I still have concerns, not for him but his wife Liz and the dogs, he seems to forget about them.

12th August 2019

I am down to the small jobs now, the last five percent that will take the rest of the trip I bet.

Every way I turn I find another little thing to do.

I had to fit the full length mirror in the bedroom that I bought at IKEA. I am not the best thing to look at first thing in the morning, but Louise said it was needed, so now it’s there.

I decided to hang some Lino prints on my yellow wall in the living room. They were given to me by talented artists who I had met on my adventures in Indian. I had framed them but never been hung on any wall until now, so I was excited to show them off.

Throughout the cottage there are things I had brought back or been given from my time in Bangalore. The friends I had made wanted to share their culture and craft with me, and will remain a constant memory of a fantastic time.

11th August 2019

I picked up Louise at about 10.00am for our visit to IKEA. Sunday is not the best time to go, but as she works during the week, this was most convenient to her.

The objective of the trip was to buy the essential items for our Airbnb endeavour. We walked around looking at every setting still getting ides of colours and patterns. It is so easy to get carried away with the choices, and that’s exactly what we did, however we got some amazing things, and it will make the place pop.

The total cost was a little more than I had budgeted for, so I hope the business works out.

We spent about four hours at the place, and didn’t come away with either candles or coat hangers, I call that a victory.

10th August 2019

An early trip to the recycling centre meant that I could clear a lot of rubble that I had removed from the wall. I then drove to Westbury to purchase some Romney Red path gravel.

The guy in charge of the gravel was interesting, he was telling me about his father’s involvement in the war, in particular Dunkirk. I enjoyed listening to his story, I felt his pride for his father, and share concerns about the uncertainty that we find ourselves in today.

I filled up the lower step with the gravel, and bedded it down hard, this was the last part or the garden project, and boy was I glad about that!

I filled the small gabion on top of the wall with stone, drilled holes for the house number. The last job was to fit it, now there is no excuse for not getting the deliveries correct.

My bistro set arrived, so now there is a place to sit, enjoy the rain and get wet.

9th August 2019

I ventured out again to catch the bus into Bath.

I was far more knowledgeable now on the public transportation process , and able to stop the bus with the wave of the hand, and place the travel pass the correct way round on the reader.

The journey into Bath passed without incident, no unique people, just a bunch of white haired seniors grasping at their entitlements.

I had arranged to meet Steve Mower, my old junior school class mate.

It was a good to see him again, we talked for a couple of hours about disappearing Bath, and how things have changed as we grew up. He is very knowledgeable about local history showing me many photographs of places I remember. We took so many things for granted thinking they would be around for ever. The green grocers, and the fish merchant, are just a few of the business that have been lost. We both believe they won’t be the last.

It was very liberating to not worry about being back to a car park at a particular time. I had no idea when the bus back was leaving, but I didn’t care, they ran regularly so I was okay.

I got off at the correct stop, and truly felt like a world traveler.

When I got back I still had time to work on a couple of things in the garden.

8th August 2019

I had to go into Bath for a dental appointment, so this was a great opportunity to use my bus pass for the second time. The only drawback was the long steep hill I had to take to get to the bus stop. I started out okay, taking confident strides, until after four of them I hit the wall. I eventually got to the top of the hill panting and wheezing. It was a good job I had some time to spare, as I don’t think the bus driver would have understood a word I was trying to say.

Soon the bus came into view. I didn’t realise that in order to get the bus to stop you had to jump out in front of it. Instead I stood confidently expecting the vehicle to stop, but it didn’t. I then started to wave my arms, and finally it drew to a halt.

I got on with my pass tightly gripped in my fist.

The driver then said “ You cannot use that until 9.30am (it was 9.25) so you will have to pay to get to the next stop”. I refrained from getting into an argument and paid my £2.50.

Note to self, check the bloody time.

The journey was memorable, not least the make up of the passengers. There were a mixture of seniors and students. I was fascinated by one Asian girl who had a safety pin through her cheek. “Wow that must have hurt” I kept telling myself, but also trying to understand why someone would do that to themselves. As piercings go it had to be the most extreme, but at the same time useful in times of an emergency.

The was a young mother who got on with one child in a buggy, and one in a backpack. They had to sit directly in front of me and play this game that made the youngest child shriek with laughter. Now I love children, my own, not other peoples, it was times like these when noise cancelling headphones come into their own, or a soundproof box the the child can be placed in. Anyway I had to endure bedlam for more than half the journey.

I got out in Bath with my ears ringing, and totally disoriented.

The journey back was a little more crazy, and when they finally fit the suspension to the bus it would be tolerable.

Being the first time on a bus since I grew hair, I wasn’t sure where the stop was that I needed to get off, so I made a guess. Totally wrong, and not wishing to embarrass myself by admitting I got it wrong I found myself in the countryside. I bet the driver thought “ That’s the first time I’ve ever dropped someone off at that stop”

There was nothing there, no houses, nothing.

I pretended that everything was fine, and waited for the bus to disappear from sight before I started walking. It wasn’t that far, and I did it with a big smile on my face.

I can’t wait to do the same again tomorrow.

I started work on the wall where I wanted to mount the house number.

I had plans to use a piece or oak sleeper and set it into the wall, but as I cleared the foliage around it I could see that a lot of the stonework was loose, and as I started removing the stones the hole got bigger.

I abandoned the idea of the wood, and decided to use my stone mason skills and rebuild the wall.

I have no stone mason skills.

With the aid of an old saw I cut up a large piece of Bath stone to make a plinth.

I had a piece of the gabion mesh that was left over, and bent it into a shape that would fit on to the plinth.

By the end of the afternoon the plinth and metalwork was all cemented in place, ready for filling with stones.

7th August 2019

I noticed that one of the flowers I had planted was looking a bit limp. Now considering it cost me ten quid, it was not going to die on my watch. I could hear what my friend Rob would have said, and I didn’t want the guilt of my planting incompetence to become known.

I got together all the instruments needed for this life saving operation, and set about the first incision. I removed the root ball and split them into separate strands, then I added some fertiliser inside the hole and replanted the ball into the hole pushing the soil hard into the roots. I then mixed up a solution guaranteed to raise the dead, albeit plants and shrubs. It was an antibiotic steroid for gardens.

I sprinkled this liberally around the stem expected to hear groans and creaks as it developed muscles and grew wildly. Unfortunately none of that happened, but I left it to rest after it’s traumatic experience.

I went to my favourite Wickes store to buy ballast for the bottom step. I bought three bags expecting to return one, but as it

happened all three were gobbled up.

There should be a rule of thumb that you always double the amount you think you need, pretty obvious really. In the same way it will always cost twice as much as you want to spend. That is surly what has happened to me.

I stopped off at my local Co-op to buy some spread and made my way to the till. I joined what appeared to be the queue, only to hear a grunt from someone looking like ZZ top’s dad.

His hair and beard met in the middle with just a gap to stuff the pasty, he was buying, into. I apologised for jumping the queue, he just grunted, his beard rustling like a dried hedge. I took my place behind him, and was curious if he made other sounds, but as he reached the counter he slammed his pasties down without a word, handed over some money and waddled out.

That was a fine example of rural English manhood, incapable of any form of communication.