…this post was called ‘Today’ but the storm led to a power cut and I lost all my scribble.
… Trevor the carpenter finished the outside loo door. It replaced an old latch door and frame that had rotted from the bottom up. Now the outside loo, only used for as a local cat poo depository (they like the garden in winter when the perennials have died down and it’s more appealing than a litter tray), has a great door opening onto a pink palace. Sometime, I imagine in the mid-70s, the old woman who previously owned the house – one Miss Ambrose – painted said toilet in a fuchsia pink. Gloss. Dusted with age, the paint now peels from damp and years to revel crumbling plaster, mortar, and the previous paint – gloss bottle green. Mid-60s, I’ll warrant. I fancy myself a pair of chinos that colour – like walking around in a bottle of Ralph Lauren Polo.
… I was supposed to clean the house. My day off. What larks. Instead, I went and saw Inception. I was a little disappointed. No dream is that sequential, or logical. And Tom Hardy and Third Rock – two great actors – had very little to do. I wanted more character other than ‘let’s make them opposites’. And little emotional engagement. The Leo and wife story did little to hold me.
On the way home, I counted the corpses. This time of year the road kill is legion. I passed a badger, bloated to look more like a furry seal, and its sweet rich smell invaded the car through the air conditioning. It repulsed and fascinated.
I finally planted out the leeks that had been clumped in the ground and left to do their thing. Now, roots and leaves trimmed, they’re orderly. As winter arrives, some will turn purple grey in the cold. But enough of that. The grey is too briefly gone from our lives and winter had too much presence this year for me.
I made a salad from home grown produce – heirloom Black Krim tomatoes (the name may be different in the US, for PC reasons – I think it’s a Crimea reference, in case you’re wondering), cucumber, red onion (whose fire from the drought still lingers on my tongue, between my teeth – don’t kiss me darling), flat leaf parsely, garlic. Halloumi in a smoked paprika batter. Delicious.
The rain. Our drought finally broke. We were walking to the store for tea. We turned back. The small hill towards our house had a stream that skipped over drains and soaked our feet. My shorts clung to me and I felt fresh – for the first time in weeks. And then cold. We ran home. The drain was blocked – back out to clear the gunge which once allowed the gutter to overflow and water to work its way into our old boiler and kill it.
The power went, but the boiler was fine.
My bottle of Timbuktu arrived. I smell wonderful – if you like that smell.
And your yesterday?