There is a dying fall to each arm stroke as I wend my way up and down the pool. How many more lengths until the fateful entry of September puts paid to my feats of swimming?
One has to make the most of what one has and try not to think of the morrow, or at least the week after tomorrow which takes up to the fateful day when the horror begins again.
Talking of horror our unutterable neighbours have, despite our worst thoughts, been better than they were last year. The “popular” daughter of the household has made an “unfortunate” choice in terms of her male friends and her parti-coloured haired consort has been forbidden the run of the house. This has the added advantage of keeping the rest of the unsavoury brood from haunting the purlieus of our pool. This has meant that the usual foul mouthed imprecations emanating from the other side of the fence have been somewhat limited.
Only somewhat. The television situated outside the front door has been played at full blast whether or not there were any of the selfish scum there to listen. We have had the father screaming at the daughter and the daughter telling her mother to go away in the most brutal terms. We have had the whole family brood shouting their way through the day. But, we must keep telling ourselves, it is much better than it was last year!
Today has been taken up with the visiting of other garden centres and a constant marvelling at the prices that they feel they can charge for the most insubstantial pieces of hard gardening. Our thoughts of using old sleepers to delineate parts of the garden have been dismissed in a shocked appreciation of how much it would cost – especially for actual old beams or sleepers!
Lunch and the afternoon have been taken up with a visit from Suzanne. The fact that we can still talk coherently about education after a few bottles of wine is a tribute to our sheer professionalism and the fact that there was no one else there to listen to the drivel we were speaking!
A vague desire to go to a performance of “Carmen” in the Liceu was translated into direct action and the buying of tickets. At the price we were prepared to pay the first performance for which we were able to get suitable seats was for July of next year. Ah well, it’s just as well to have one’s calendar planned out well in advance!
We also almost booked a flight and hotel in Madrid to go to the Turner exhibition before wiser judgement got in the way of alcohol fuelled possibilities!
I look forward to a quieter water fuelled evening!
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