New Blood At The Bar

2nd November
The filming really is done for this year, the Camera Boys have returned to the UK - we are now in visiting season. Since Bruno's August visit we have been without doorhandles - he replaced the original knobs with a set that can’t be made to stay fixed on. My parents arrived here a few days ago. They have known me long enough not to expect much in the way of comfort but I bet they had hoped for door handles. No matter - once given a pair of pliers and a monkey wrench they soon got the hang of getting in and out of their bedroom. My mother hasn’t really got the upper body strength to haul the front door open on her own yet though.

We were also suffering from a smelly drain problem. Our squalid kitchen has a concrete sink with a hole through the back wall. The water, and whatever else you put in the sink, washes through to a concrete gutter running the length of the back of the house. Over the years it has silted up and grown over with weeds, the autumn rains have made the area behind the kitchen swampy and putrid. My repeated calls to Landlord and plumber have been ignored. Mum put her foot down, The Director and my father got out the shovels and a wheelbarrow, dislodging unspeakable hideousness to make a drainage channel.

As a further treat for my parents I took them to the bar for some of Mrs Strange’s gin. The Senior Strange’s have already slipped away. But Kurt the tattooed son has returned from Copenhagen with his wife and turns out to be perfectly good at serving gin with flat tonic in a dirty glass from the iceless bar.

Kurt’s wife, Courtney has translucently pale skin, she has only recently started her tattoo collection, they both dress exclusively in black. They tell me that their band had split anyway and that they are going to liven up the bar with 'live bands, gourmet food and that kind of stuff'. Courtney is animated, she says that Kurt’s great in the kitchen - I’m not sure if she means he can cook. Buoyed up with enthusiasm for their plans (and feeling guilty that I’ve now booked to show our film at the village hall) I suggest that they put on a supper for after the film show - I’ll publicise it on the flyer I’m going to put around the surrounding villages next week. Kurt is a sullen kind of chap, he asks what sort of thing I have in mind,
I suggest casserole-type dishes; a daube, coq au vin … a cassoulet?
I’ll do a cassoulet
Something about his response is not putting me at ease.

Hammer Horror Hotel

9th August
The leaking shower had become apparent during my visit last month. I tried calling a plumber recommended by the Landlord without response, I finally called the Landlord directly last week. It is a bit frustrating that his response was to send me Bruno. We have all taken it in turns now to try and secure the new door handles and failed, resigning ourselves to using pliers, monkey wrenches and spanners to get in and out of our rooms. My sister and her husband have arrived to stay for a few days, what with the smell of the rotting raffia stuff on the bathroom floor and the door handle thing, I don’t really feel that I’m offering an ideal holiday experience.

I am also questioning my linguistic abilities and wonder whether there are words in French for 'plumber’ and 'knob’ that sound similar and I am unaware of them.

New door handles - Hooray!

8th August
Yesterday an elderly man with a corrugated face and a bag of knobs turned up on the doorstep, sent by the Landlord to change all our interior door handles - I had no idea that we had door handle issues. Bruno is of Italian origin and has a drink problem - and strong political views.

We're clearing out a disgusting barn to make a lovely studio for filming. It is full of rotten furniture, rat-soiled piles of newspapers, bottles of veterinary medicines and rusty sharp things. Glass aquariums are set up to accommodate our growing captive insect population.

I can't get into my bedroom without a spanner now because the new handle has dropped off.