It has been a wonderfully quiet few days, full of sunshine and earnest endeavour: Lester working at programming on his PC for a company in the UK, and me working hard at redesigning and rewriting my web site, which has been a task which seems to have gone on, and on, and on.
And then there became an urgency to get the work done on it as Hubs/Tech Team Guy decided to transfer the site to another service provider which, he says, will give him more scope to fiddle about with it. Since I am the one who has designed and written the site, I am not quite sure to what measure his 'fiddling about' will go to. And I foresee some discussion, possibly even some heated debate, to come in the future in regards to the topic of what the site should do and how it should look. Meanwhile I carry on with sorting it out. At nearly two hundred pages with loads of links, it is quite a task.
On the subject of mice: they seem to be looking for new residences for the winter. One walked down the wall of the Hutto (hut/office) again last night, and then tried without success to walk back up it. Traps laid. This morning: one sprung, but empty. Hubs/Tech Team Guy just phoning his boss in the UK, but expletives were emitted instead. One mouse by foot under desk, probably not quite right after its rumble with the mouse trap. Mallet grabbed. (The mallet used to open and close the Hutto door) One mouse: deceased. Removed for recycling to the compost heap.
Meanwhile, a lorry was heard. Builders not been here this week as on holiday. So has been quiet: apart from the noise of the diggers finishing off the killing of our bank in the river, although it is only temporarily killed according to our neighbour who said not to worry as the first heavy flood of winter will give us the bank back which is good news don't you think, and apart from the noise of a farmer ploughing the field by our side field and who drives over a corner of our field to get to his field because he can't be bothered to go the other way round and enter the field by its proper entrance which is nowhere near our field at all but not to worry because I kept an eye on him to make sure he didn't take a drive over our field which is carrying sproutlings of baby grass which would make Hubs/Tech Team Guy/ Head Gardener very very cross indeed. Apart from this, all has been quiet.
And then the lorry arrives. And it has a fosse on board. Wow! One step closer the retirement of the porta potties. By the way, a fosse is a big concrete container which is part of the treatment process for our loo and waste water. No mains sewerage system here. All of what we produce and use is recycled back into the land. I quite like the thought of that. Sort of being responsible for what comes out of our rear-ends, instead of flushing the loo and disregarding what happens to our contributions as they head off into the sewerage systems.
The fosse is put down off the lorry's back. Meanwhile: I feed Gussy and Boolie after their two hour walk and swim. They are full. They settle down in the sunshine. I settle down on the PC. More work on website. Hubs is steaming away on his PC.
'Hellloooo' is heard. Bruno. 'You 'ave my fosse' he says in his sexy French accent. Oh. Not to worry. Back onto the lorry the fosse will go this afternoon, and over to his place it will be taken. Bruno is having his fosse done, but by DIY methods. It costs half the price of ours, which is being done by our builder. It remains to be seen which of the two fosses will be the most efficient.
Meanwhile, I make a return to the Hutto to listen out for any calls coming in from the UK for Hubs, while he, and Bruno, and Bools, and Gus all go and investigate the fosse. Well, Hubs, Bruno and Bools did. Gussy did a raid. To the compost heap he went.
Ah well, not to worry. I am sure the mouse will go through Gussy's entrails with reasonable speed, together with his breakfast of tinned dog food and dog biscuits.
I, meanwhile, continue on with getting my web site sorted. My eyes are all squrly from watching a scrolling screen, and my head feels equally squrled from too much concentration. Hubs is the same. Bools is snoring. Gus is sitting on his new perch which is the garden seat, sunning himself while his full tum sorts itself out. It is quiet here. There is a feel of spring in the air, of promise of the growth to come. Precious days, these are precious days, to keep within our hearts when the winter chills come upon us. Forever after I will view autumn in a different light. Living in caravans and spending a lot of time outside, we are starting to become in touch with the flow of the seasons, and autumn has a calm richness which is quite, quite beautiful.
Several hours later: in creative midflow I was stopped as Hubs's temper lifted off and he chased me out of the Hutto. I raged back at him and war was declared. In massive huff I at least fed him, delivering his food by slamming it down on his desk with great vigour, followed by the slamming of the Hutto's door which didn't quite deliver the effect I was seeking because Gussy was following on behind me as I made my Grand Exit and his big plastic collar made the door do a rebound when plastic met wood. Unfazed, Gussy followed on. I was, after all, heading for the kitchen caravan and that meant food. 'Well not today, Gusso, you already have a full tum ' I thought to myself. Bools had heard the raised voices and was keeping safely out of the way underneath the bedroom caravan, which is his sanctuary for when there is war.
Off for a sulk in the bedroom caravan I went. And as I lay upon my bed I thought of the uselessness of war. I thought of those people who I have come to know through their blogs, the ones who are unwell, very unwell actually, but who still manage to speak to me through their words. Of those who take time to write words of encouragement. Of those who are stumbling along at the moment, trying to find their way.
And so when Hubs came and found me a while later, offering the white flag of truce, in the form of a cup of tea, I did not continue my huff as we women are inclined to do, but instead let peace come swiftly between us. You see, I don't want to waste time in warring. In my mind are my fellow bloggers, all living their lives, all doing their best.
The fosse was delivered today, but then it wasn't. Soon it will be delivered again. Our beach is gone, but soon it will come again. Summer is over, autumn is saying that winter is on its way but that soon spring will come again. Hubs and me might have minor skirmishes mostly as a result of mental fatigue, but soon all will be well between us. No mice here at the moment, but soon one, or two, or even more, will come again. And so life goes on.
It is peaceful here at Labartere. When all the comings and goings are resting, the feeling of peacefulness drops down like quietly falling snowflakes. And I hope your days will be blessed with peace, of comings and goings, but yet with an overlaying sense of peacefulness. That is what I wish for you this day.
Sending love and best wishes to you. x
And then there became an urgency to get the work done on it as Hubs/Tech Team Guy decided to transfer the site to another service provider which, he says, will give him more scope to fiddle about with it. Since I am the one who has designed and written the site, I am not quite sure to what measure his 'fiddling about' will go to. And I foresee some discussion, possibly even some heated debate, to come in the future in regards to the topic of what the site should do and how it should look. Meanwhile I carry on with sorting it out. At nearly two hundred pages with loads of links, it is quite a task.
On the subject of mice: they seem to be looking for new residences for the winter. One walked down the wall of the Hutto (hut/office) again last night, and then tried without success to walk back up it. Traps laid. This morning: one sprung, but empty. Hubs/Tech Team Guy just phoning his boss in the UK, but expletives were emitted instead. One mouse by foot under desk, probably not quite right after its rumble with the mouse trap. Mallet grabbed. (The mallet used to open and close the Hutto door) One mouse: deceased. Removed for recycling to the compost heap.
Meanwhile, a lorry was heard. Builders not been here this week as on holiday. So has been quiet: apart from the noise of the diggers finishing off the killing of our bank in the river, although it is only temporarily killed according to our neighbour who said not to worry as the first heavy flood of winter will give us the bank back which is good news don't you think, and apart from the noise of a farmer ploughing the field by our side field and who drives over a corner of our field to get to his field because he can't be bothered to go the other way round and enter the field by its proper entrance which is nowhere near our field at all but not to worry because I kept an eye on him to make sure he didn't take a drive over our field which is carrying sproutlings of baby grass which would make Hubs/Tech Team Guy/ Head Gardener very very cross indeed. Apart from this, all has been quiet.
And then the lorry arrives. And it has a fosse on board. Wow! One step closer the retirement of the porta potties. By the way, a fosse is a big concrete container which is part of the treatment process for our loo and waste water. No mains sewerage system here. All of what we produce and use is recycled back into the land. I quite like the thought of that. Sort of being responsible for what comes out of our rear-ends, instead of flushing the loo and disregarding what happens to our contributions as they head off into the sewerage systems.
The fosse is put down off the lorry's back. Meanwhile: I feed Gussy and Boolie after their two hour walk and swim. They are full. They settle down in the sunshine. I settle down on the PC. More work on website. Hubs is steaming away on his PC.
'Hellloooo' is heard. Bruno. 'You 'ave my fosse' he says in his sexy French accent. Oh. Not to worry. Back onto the lorry the fosse will go this afternoon, and over to his place it will be taken. Bruno is having his fosse done, but by DIY methods. It costs half the price of ours, which is being done by our builder. It remains to be seen which of the two fosses will be the most efficient.
Meanwhile, I make a return to the Hutto to listen out for any calls coming in from the UK for Hubs, while he, and Bruno, and Bools, and Gus all go and investigate the fosse. Well, Hubs, Bruno and Bools did. Gussy did a raid. To the compost heap he went.
Ah well, not to worry. I am sure the mouse will go through Gussy's entrails with reasonable speed, together with his breakfast of tinned dog food and dog biscuits.
I, meanwhile, continue on with getting my web site sorted. My eyes are all squrly from watching a scrolling screen, and my head feels equally squrled from too much concentration. Hubs is the same. Bools is snoring. Gus is sitting on his new perch which is the garden seat, sunning himself while his full tum sorts itself out. It is quiet here. There is a feel of spring in the air, of promise of the growth to come. Precious days, these are precious days, to keep within our hearts when the winter chills come upon us. Forever after I will view autumn in a different light. Living in caravans and spending a lot of time outside, we are starting to become in touch with the flow of the seasons, and autumn has a calm richness which is quite, quite beautiful.
Several hours later: in creative midflow I was stopped as Hubs's temper lifted off and he chased me out of the Hutto. I raged back at him and war was declared. In massive huff I at least fed him, delivering his food by slamming it down on his desk with great vigour, followed by the slamming of the Hutto's door which didn't quite deliver the effect I was seeking because Gussy was following on behind me as I made my Grand Exit and his big plastic collar made the door do a rebound when plastic met wood. Unfazed, Gussy followed on. I was, after all, heading for the kitchen caravan and that meant food. 'Well not today, Gusso, you already have a full tum ' I thought to myself. Bools had heard the raised voices and was keeping safely out of the way underneath the bedroom caravan, which is his sanctuary for when there is war.
Off for a sulk in the bedroom caravan I went. And as I lay upon my bed I thought of the uselessness of war. I thought of those people who I have come to know through their blogs, the ones who are unwell, very unwell actually, but who still manage to speak to me through their words. Of those who take time to write words of encouragement. Of those who are stumbling along at the moment, trying to find their way.
And so when Hubs came and found me a while later, offering the white flag of truce, in the form of a cup of tea, I did not continue my huff as we women are inclined to do, but instead let peace come swiftly between us. You see, I don't want to waste time in warring. In my mind are my fellow bloggers, all living their lives, all doing their best.
The fosse was delivered today, but then it wasn't. Soon it will be delivered again. Our beach is gone, but soon it will come again. Summer is over, autumn is saying that winter is on its way but that soon spring will come again. Hubs and me might have minor skirmishes mostly as a result of mental fatigue, but soon all will be well between us. No mice here at the moment, but soon one, or two, or even more, will come again. And so life goes on.
It is peaceful here at Labartere. When all the comings and goings are resting, the feeling of peacefulness drops down like quietly falling snowflakes. And I hope your days will be blessed with peace, of comings and goings, but yet with an overlaying sense of peacefulness. That is what I wish for you this day.
Sending love and best wishes to you. x
5 comments:
Quiet and peacefulness is the reccurrent theme in this post; that's what we all want: no wars, no hot debates, no waste of precious energy.
The last part of your post , Vera, sounds very optimistic and leaves the reader in a pleasant mood.
Thankyou for that comment, Duta, as it is my wish always to inspire people. I try not to make a carry on about things, but always to try and find the light and funny side. Thankyou for taking the time to respond.
Oh my yes! As the weather turns cold, mice make their way indoors, looking for a place to seek shelter. We dealt with that in our old house every fall, or I should say, our cat let us know when it was time to start dealing with it, generally by making enough noise to wake the very dead in his pursuit of a mouse.
Fun, fun, fun.
You describe your life, the people, the things in it in a very charming manner, Vera. I agree with DUTA, it leaves me with a smile on my face.
I love the writing in the last paragraph and certainly wish you a little peace as well.
Oh, and the return of your beach!
Hello Vera :) I really enjoyed this post. There is something just so lovely and peaceful about it. I love that being outside so much you are getting in touch with the seasons and I love what you say about encouraging blogger who touch you with their words. It is such a beautiful thing, isn't it.
And lastly, how you end this in your last paragraph,"peacefulness drops down like quietly falling snowflakes." So beautiful.
Thank you for this :) I'm so happy I stopped here today.
Wishing you Love and Peace and Happiness Always!
Kelly
xxO
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