An Eventful Week

Where has the water gone?

Despite the fact that we are in a 6pm nationwide curfew the hours before curfew have been a little more action packed than we would have expected. It all started with notification by one of our real estate agents of an impending viewing. Action stations and a tidy up all round. It’s pretty tricky showing a house in the winter because it never looks as good as any other season, but when viewers come a knocking we must let them in. Since the pools are uncovered this year they needed a quick sweep before they were presentable again. G grabbed what looked like a rather large swiffer and started sweeping the bottom of the pool. It wasn’t until around the time of our viewing that I noticed that the pool level looked remarkably low. While water evaporates at a significant rate almost every day in the searing heat of the summer, the same cannot be said for winter. How to explain this strange phenomenon? We thought nothing of it until after the viewing and put it to the back of our minds until the next morning. In any case there was nothing we could do because the water had become bone chillingly cold so a repair could not be undertaken. Down and down the level went, disappearing with every passing hour. At one point we thought we had found the offending crack in the vinyl right by the stairs and so attempted to seal it. However the next morning the water was still escaping. It was not until we had about a third of the usual level that we were able to take a closer inspection of the liner. I leaned over to see a small but significant rip and we knew that was our culprit. Still it was too far down and the water was still too deep to intervene.

Meanwhile we went to a local hardware store to buy the repair kit and after returning home set about bailing out some more of the water so that we could make the repair. Thankfully I still have a pair of wellington boots and so could get into the pool and get to work. As I scooped the water and swung around getting quite a core workout in the process a song came into my head. The Wellie Boot song by that Scottish institution Billy Connelly. You have to read it in it’s true Glaswegian format in order to be able to follow. “If it wasnae for your wellies where would ye be? Ye would be in the hospital or infirmary, for you would have a dose of the flu or even pleurisy if ye didnae have yer feet in yer wellies”. Amazingly more came to mind “wellies are wonderful, wellies are swell for they keep out the wetness and they keep in the smell” and I think that was all I could remember. I must have heard that when I was a wee bairn aka very young. I’ve always amazed myself at the amount of useless trivia, mainly song lyrics I can remember. It’s just a shame that rigor did not extend to academic pursuits. Who knows what I could have been. “I could have been a contender. I could have been somebody instead of just a bum which is what I am”. There I go again On The Waterfront. At this point my mum would spring up and say and “that’s lateral thinking”, something we seem to be rather good at in our family that is probably not lateral thinking.

France, September 2020

So apart from aquatic annoyances what else happened this week that made it action packed you may ask. The infirmary comes to mind from the Wellie Boot song and here’s why. What happened on Wednesday evening far away in Scotland I was not aware until early on Thursday morning. My mum had a heart attack. Fortunately she had the presence of mind to know that something was wrong and so she called for an ambulance which took her to hospital in Edinburgh where she was admitted to the Intensive Care Unit and a stent was inserted. My lovely brother jumped straight on a plane the next morning and headed up to ensure that she had what she needed in hospital. Unfortunately he was not able to see mum of course because of the ongoing Coronavirus situation but he was able to get some things from home for her to make her more comfortable. One of the most important things he got for her was her iPAD which the nurses connected on to wifi and so we were able to FaceTime and that reassured all of us. Mum was delighted to be able to see us all and we were able to see that she was still upbeat and cheerful despite what she had just gone through.

Amazingly Super Mum was doing so well that the doctors decided she could be moved to a hospital closer to home on Friday. Mum makes friends everywhere she goes and as she was in the ambulance being transported to the next hospital she was finding out about the love lives and astrological signs of the ambulance drivers. I hasten to add that she was the one doing the questioning. Her new digs were what she called “a suite” where she had her own private room and television. Even the toiletries which had been donated by hotels that were currently closed were wonderful she told me as Bailey and I chatted with her on FaceTime. Late Saturday afternoon she was finally allowed to go home since the doctors were pleased with her progress. My brother collected her from the hospital and will hand over to my sister who is going to assume responsibilities this week. It’s such a new situation for all of us, most of all mum and we will just need to see how her recovery progresses. She received such wonderful care thanks to the fantastic National Health Service and we all can’t thank those doctors and nurses enough.

Good Times

One of the things I suspect G misses most about California were his almost daily games of ping pong in the games room when he worked at Riverbed in San Francisco. So when our lovely Scottish friends who live near Bédoin invited us for a game on their brand new table, we were very enthusiastic. I should say that G was very enthusiastic to play. However for me and my lack of skill the table is just too small. I really need a tennis court to play table tennis and a football pitch on which to play tennis. You get the idea no doubt. My skills are such that I just can’t control the shots I make. However G and our friend Tarlochan look almost professional in comparison to me. It was one of those beautifully sunny Provencal days but there was a mistral wind blowing and that increased the difficulty factor of the game. Thankfully Bailey didn’t chase after the ball very much at all because that’s a bit like work and she’s more interested in what’s going on in the kitchen. After reassuring herself that everything was under control in the kitchen, she decided to position herself at the patio doors where she had full view of the garden in case any interlopers aka cats came by. Needless to say they did, ambling by without a care in the world, unaware of the crazy Labradoodle positively huffing and puffing at the scene wishing that she was out there giving them a run for their money.

As I reflected on this week I found this quote: “The older you get the more you realize it’s not about the material things, or pride or ego. It’s about our hearts and who they beat for”.

Thanks for reading!

Les Trois Musketeers