Tuesday, June 22, 2010
There are not many shepherds off the coast of northern France ...
... so I had no worries about this lovely red sky at about 5.30 UK time today. We had already finished our breakfast and I hadn't got to sleep until about midnight so, as the modern saying goes, do the math. And yet here I am fourteen hours later still capable of conscious thought. Spending five months here last year has changed the place forever for me. As soon as we found ourselves sitting with 'un demi' talking with P in the cafe, I felt as if I hadn't been away. And this evening, as M was feeding Charlie, I thought, "should I water the vegetables now?" Of course there are no vegetables here this year and as we are only able to stay for four weeks there aren't going to be. But even the unpacked boxes, furniture still covered with polythene, to say nothing of the nine and a half months intervening, didn't stop the feeling of continuance.
We have been so fortunate today. Fingers crossed and perhaps tomorrow I will be eating my words, but we have hot and cold water and no leaks. In case this doesn't sound anything very much, I should tell you that M reported that this is the first time this has happened on his return after the winter in the fourteen years he has owned the house. It's fair enough: last September he stuffed old cushions and duvets and loft insulation in bin bags round every pipe he could find, even those which are empty over the winter. We haven't checked the cottage yet, but in the house we use all is well. Not only do we have hot and cold running water and electricity, we have phone and, obviously, internet. No delays this year. I can connect with the world and report that tonight I feel lucky.