Pests

15th May
I might not be squeamish about insects but I still find them a bit of a nuisance, around here it is the season for nuptial flights, when freshly hatched ants are supposed to fly off and start new colonies. The walls of The Lovely House are made from mud bricks and lots of ants seem to be living in there, at the moment our wooden window sills are covered in earth as millions of ants emerge from underneath the windows inside the house, they fly around hopelessly, then drop down dead as they fail to find a suitable mating spot.

Our response is to spend most of the time outdoors, I’ve failed to stem the mouse population so it's more hygienic and it’s warmer outside anyway*. I cook supper on a fire under the lime tree - this is quite an owly neighbourhood too, which is nice.


All this ‘Live and let Live’ stuff is messing with my head actually - if I was an American I would describe myself as being 'very conflicted’.

It is killing me that my new vegetable patch, nurtured with my own bare hands is simultaneously flourishing and being ravaged by wildlife – this means that my project is a raging success, I made the garden to attract these bastards, why do I feel like machine gunning them all off?

*Our Lovely House is like a damp cave all year round, mud brick and stone buildings are very common in this region, it should be a very 'breatheable’ structure, the original limestone render on the outside of our house has been 'repaired’ with concrete in large patches, - this is what keeps the house so damp.

Back Home

12th January
... On Saturday it was Freddie's turn for cooking, Saturday night is Spaghetti Night.

The Ranch is an extremely organised household - the month’s menu is fixed in advance and they do a monthly shop for everything in one go, this involves 4 shopping trolleys.

I didn’t see much of Nina, she works out a lot in the home gym, she is tiny, twitchy and boyish. Nina also has OCD and there are quite a lot of rules - I think my visit was quite taxing for her.

I got back to the Lovely House yesterday morning, the water fell from the attic which runs along the back of the house into a downstairs room which isn't used during the winter. The water did wash through into the main front room where the fireplace is, the unglazed terracotta tiles are placed straight on the raw clay which was scraped flat to build the house on (no foundations) so the floor is still damp but the fire is going and the weather has really warmed up now - it’s great to be home.

A Stay At The Ranch

11th January
...I’d not even washed my face when I arrived at the dinner party on Friday night, I nipped into the bathroom and washed off the dirt a bit but frankly I looked considerably worse when the full horror of my blotchy swollen face was revealed.

It was decided that Freddie and Nina should take me in for that night and then Freddie would help me sort things out at my place in the morning.

Freddie and Nina live in a huge new-looking house on a hilltop. It is regarded by many as a monstrosity with it’s glossy tan tudoresque beams criss-crossing neatly across a gleaming white façade. Freddie has built it around the skeleton of some farm buildings following Nina’s directions, she explained how they first found the place and the vision she immediately saw for it’s future;
It was just a fallen down barn - no roof, Freddie said to me 'This is too far gone for us Nina’ and I said 'Freddie. Look up there, that’s where we’ll have our corner bath’.

Freddie is ex-RAF and quite a bit older than Nina. He is a bit like my Nan and remorselessly hospitable
... would you like 3 or 4 sugars in your tea, or would you prefer coffee, I’ll make you cocoa, look lovely hot milk, are you warm enough, let me make you a hot water bottle...

Freddie and Nina have insisted that I stay at their place until I’ve got The Lovely House dried out. Their house is blazing hot and I couldn’t sleep on Friday night, I had a banging headache and everything ached yesterday morning. I dressed and wandered into the kitchen where Freddie reeled off breakfast options;
Do you like eggs? I could scramble you some eggs and I’ve got some lovely sausages, would you like 4 or 5 eggs, you could have 10 sausages, I’ve got loads. Or would you prefer fried eggs, I expect I can find bacon, or maybe you’re a cereal sort of person...

I started giggling at this barrage and then started crying again, Freddie made me a very sweet coffee and patted my shoulder, waiting until I’d dried out enough to make sense.

After breakfast Freddie put some paraffin heaters in his van and drove me back down to the Lovely House. I checked the cats, ants and whatever else is living in the fridge at the moment, then I waited until the electrician came. I spent the day there with the fires going and would have been happy to stay but Freddie had seen in my fridge and insisted that I go back for supper with them and stay at the ranch for a second night …

Fish Pomade - mmmm

7th August
It’s taken all day to unpack the van which should have gone back to the UK this morning. Last night we noticed it wouldn’t start so I headed to the cafe to see if I could borrow a battery charger. A football match was on tv there with all the local men watching. I’ve realised by now that you can’t just kiss hello to the people you know, you have to greet everybody. By the time I’d gone round the whole crowd I'd forgotten that I had a mission and got embroiled in drink and gossip. It wasn’t until the Director came looking for me that I remembered about the charger.

Despite securing a charger the battery still wouldn’t work, so this morning the van was declared dead and towed away which is a good thing because now we don’t have to drive it back to the UK.

In the bar last night I started finding out about our landlord’s father. He bought the Lovely House in 1943 in pristine condition and, according to my companions, set about destroying it. His main farming activity was pigs but he diversified. I had noticed how the once rather grand carriage house had been carved up by concrete divisions with an enormous feeding hopper bursting through the ceiling. Old Landlord was famous for his meanness and lack of hygiene standards. Stories abounded, how he set traps and ate whatever fell into them - cats, hedgehogs, crows... One of my companions told how had turned up at the Lovely House one day to see Old Landlord using a knife to eat sardines from a tin. Fish finished, he poured the oil from the tin into his palm and slicked back his hair with it.

Is it on or is it off?

25th July, Back in UK
Got back after midnight last night, new drama has broken out about terms and conditions, money, budgets... The Director is in London all day today meeting the Big Controller. A few days ago, when we were in celebration mode, he invited everyone who’s had anything to do with the project to a party tonight. This includes a new camera assistant who started working for us while I was away. This one is dark and brooding: slouchy posture, super-baggy low-slung trousers, underwear spilling over the top. He arrives for work first thing and he's bought his new wife along, she is pretty and pouty and spends the day sunbathing in the garden. I spend the day preparing for the party, getting tense about the outcome of the London meeting and developing my plans for running a B&B from the Lovely House.

The Director arrives slightly later than the other guests. I don't get a chance to find out how the meeting went.

New Camera Boy is keen for his wife to join the team. When the subject is broached directly to me I point out that a) we don’t definitely have a project yet but if we do finally hook it, it will have less rather than more budget. And b) if we can afford extra help there are several strong reasons why we should be using French people.


Late to bed - The Director tells me that New Wife persuaded him to give her a job interview  tomorrow evening????!!!