Little by little

Day 2 of Repairing the Outdoor Sink has seen Toni attempt his first bricklaying with my humble self in the secondary (but vital) role of cement mixer.

I am not necessarily convinced by what one might call the “integrity” of the structure and Toni is now immersed in various self-help videos on YouTube in an effort to perfect his technique.  I am perfectly willing to encourage this as long as I do not have to do anything more taxing that stirring – either cement or tea.

The real irritation of the whole project (apart from the fact that we did not destroy the original structure) is that in the real world of renting in the UK I am convinced that “fair wear and tear” would mean that the landlord is liable to “make good”.  This, as I was so often reminded by David, is not Britain and the rights of Spanish landlords are many and their duties hugely sparse!

Getting anything “done” is always met by the agents telling us that they will ask the landlords.  But they are the landlords as well so the Dickensian subterfuge falls flat each time they try it – but it works for them and they feel that they have to do nothing after the “landlord” (i.e. them) says he is not willing to fork out for, basically, anything.

Therefore, yet again, the self-help approach that means exploring yet another facet of building or house repair that we have not yet come across.

I suspect that the might brick piers that have been constructed which tower four brick high, might well be re-cemented as the thin layer of gooey liquid which was applied to the brick’s surface may be augmented by a more convention dollop of something or other to ensure some sort of stability.

As we had to move a storage shelf thingie to get at the sink, I have been going through the treasures unearthed by the move and throwing most of it out.

I can only assume that the swimming goggles have been breeding, as I have no recollection of purchasing such a multiplicity of swimming aids.

I must admit that I am getting fussier about what goggles are acceptable as virtually all of them seem to let in water unless they are put on so tightly that I imagine that I must look like Marty Feldman by the time I have done my customary twenty minutes.

Those goggles which are most congenial to me are made by Zoggs – a brand that used to be advertised by showing a seal wearing a pair.  I can see the positive reasoning behind such an image but I do find the picture just a little disturbing.

The glasses that I have unearthed - a not inappropriate word given the amount of dust caking their external surfaces- are in all shapes and sizes with just as great a variety of coloured lenses.  I have no intention of being specific about numbers, but just let us say that if I was considering a garage sale then I could have a substantial section of the place set aside for them!

Meanwhile the building work extends itself into a third great day.  Eight bricks!  If Toni and I had been building The Great Wall of China the Barbarian Hordes would have swept past the small sump of bricks that we would have created and swamped China and the rest of the world and we would now be living in a very different place!

However, in this reality I am off to Barcelona tomorrow afternoon to meet one of my ex-colleagues, have a little culture, eat a few tapas, have a discrete drink and try, vainly I fear, not to gloat!

Affliction!

It is a given truth that mosquitos like Toni more than me.  They attack him with all the enthusiasm and vigour of a Conservative driving the knife into their latest Leader.  Why then was I awoken last night through the marauding hysteria of a mosquito who, when I finally gained consciousness was barely able to stick to the wall through the sheer quantity of blood he had drained from me.

I can vouch for the fluid ounces taken because when I convulsively smashed my thumb on the totally stationary blood-pissed insect I left a woefully large patch of red on the wall as well as an ensanguined digit.

I had to go down stairs and lavishly apply the salve that I had thoughtfully bought for visitors on my own skin!

And this campaign of six legged poison injectors has continued today.

I will not detail the sorry story of thwarted ingenuity that Toni and I have expended in attempting to get the outside sink shipshape after the woefully corroded superstructure holding the damn thing up finally gave way when, thank god, neither Toni nor myself were in the vicinity and could conveniently blame the inevitable disaster on someone else.

It has, so far taken us the best part of a day and the efforts will stretch well into tomorrow.  The inevitable trips to DIY stores and the polite differences of opinion have all been managed.  What hasn’t is the wild life.

Clearing away the bits and pieces which picturesquely adored the immediate vicinity of the sink: plastic slippers, goggles, water pistols, beach mattresses, rucksacks, significantly plastic boxes and the general rubbish which accumulates naturally over the years – all of that being moved encouraged the erstwhile hidden insect life to rise up from their accustomed obscurity and mindlessly attack the blood-rich humans who had disturbed the even tenor of their ways.

Both of us are now sweetly humming with the odour of the embrocation-smelling unguent which purports to lessen the irritation of the stings.  It worked last night and I am ever hopeful that it will work before I retire to my bed and await further onslaughts.

Today was a sullen day with only occasional patches of sunshine and it was with a certain degree of trepidation that I decided to take my second swim of the day by plunging into the communal pool.

Although the water was a shock to the system it was not the traumatic shock that I expected assuming, as I was that I was jumping into the cool pool for the last swim of the summer.  Being able to move without gasping meant that the water was not unbearably cold (for me) and might mean that there will be space for another dip before I call it a day.  A day I might add that is long past for Toni!

My attempt to study with the OU has been thwarted by deadlines about which I knew nothing, but I will persevere and see if I can salvage something from the wreckage.

Tomorrow, more construction and the free flow of water.

Silence at last!

The delight which met the final disappearance of the Neighbours from Hell at the end of last weekend after their Cava soaked departure – cava soaked that is from our point of view as we opened a prime bottle to celebrate their apparent dismissal from Castelldefels – was only matched by the augmented disgust we experienced when they reappeared this Friday evening!

The sense of betrayal we felt when the whole tribe of them produced the usual sound landscape which indicates their possession of their property was bitter indeed.

Throughout the week I have been taking a swim in the communal pool surrounded by delightful silence as the manic chorus of discordant voices led by the vile ogre from next door has been absent and he has not been surrounded by his raucous “court”.  The water was undeniably cool, but it was worth suffering a little discomfort to wallow in the freedom of a shouted talk and smoke-free atmosphere.

Then they return! 

Toni, however, takes a morbid interest in the vagaries of our temporary neighbours and has developed a George Smiley-like observational analysis of their behaviour.  He assured me that they would leave by 7.00 pm on Sunday and we had to look to the “placing of the car” to determine if we were truly rid of them.

The car is in the drive! 

Just as they use the house for only the summer months, they also squander a car purely to rest in the drive to give the impression that they are in residence. 

They are (Hallelujah!) truly gone and, in spite of the impassioned pleas of a sad neighbour urging them to return next weekend we can be fairly sure that their sojourn here is over for the year.

The second bottle of Cava is cooling, but was not deemed cold enough to match the required level of the necessary celebrations after the departure and so we went into town and had a caña y tapa as an accompaniment to our delight.

The cooling pool is still acceptable as an environment in which to swim vigorously, but is certainly not conducive to wallowing in a casual manner.  As time goes on it will be become more and more of a pain rather than a pleasure to immerse oneself in the chilly waters.  This will have the advantage of driving away the noisy users but the clear disadvantage of being too painful to use.  Silence and tranquillity comes with a price attached!

Yesterday, in order to escape the booming bass bombast of our noisy neighbours we fled to Sitges for lunch in the restaurant that we always go to.  A three course meal with wine is still available for €10 in a place which is within two minutes walk of the beach.

The weather has been glorious and, out of the shadow of school, I have been beautifully positioned to make the most of it.

However, summer is clearly waning and I must give thought to those tasks which have remained undone for years.  And years.

Next week I intend to phone the Open University and find out if there are any suitable art history courses that I could take.  In theory, I think that I am still registered with the OU as I still have some way to go before I can claim a degree.

The nuts and bolts of resurrecting my OU career will be much more significant now as I understand that the cost of courses is dramatically more expensive for those wishing to study overseas.  We will see.

I have already checked up on my Opera tickets and the first of the series is on the 8^th of October.  This will be a perfect opportunity to find out exactly how much it would cost to put my opera and hotel plan into operation. 

I have discovered a reasonably priced hotel near the opera house and staying in the city rather than paying for the car in one of the central car parks is financially almost equal!  Leaving the car in the station car park in Castelldefels, using the cheap ticket on the train, staying in a hotel and returning the next morning seems like a good and relatively stress-free package.

Roll on culture!

Modern life

Printer drivers are the curse of the not very concerned with the practical details of the media nation.

I sort-of know that they are important and I always tell myself that I will, this time, look after the disc so that we have a fall-back replacement when disaster strikes just as you need the printer most.

I blame, I have to admit, Toni for the loss of the disc for the new machine.

If he wasn’t so curmudgeonly about putting “everything in his place” (sic) then I wouldn’t have “tidied” and the disc would still be safe protected from loss by being part of the organic miasma which is my filing system.  But that was not to be and now the disc is truly lost.  I say truly lost because I have searched for it in all the places that it could reasonably and surrealistically impossibly be.

The old expression that the more you look the more it isn’t there certainly seemed accurate.  I did come across a variety of interesting things including a series of enamelled magnetic bookmarks which I either bought for my Aunt Betty or she bought for me.  They had not been taken out of their packaging and I fear that they have now descended even deeper into the maelstrom of sheer thingness that comprises the materialistic fog in which I wrap myself.

I have a vague feeling I know where they might be as I review in my mind the kaleidoscope of possessions which I have riffled my way through in the Great Search for the Lost Driver – but I lack the determination or inclination to put my suspicions to the test.

The major “find” however was the rogue Apple Nano which I have been without for a considerable number of months.  Whose “loss” I compensated for by pretending that it had never existed.

The improvised plastic case I used to enclose this small machine and give it the obvious bulk which should have stopped its falling into obscurity was found lodged securely in the top moulding of a rarely used electric fan which was itself placed “usefully” behind a rarely moved set of drawers.

The machine was, not unexpectedly, fully drained of power, but this is as nothing to someone whose armchair is constantly surrounded by a swarming nest of viper-like power cables giving one the appearance of one of the more vicious Hindu gods on a serpentine throne!

Powered up, I set it to play and was rewarded with one of my characteristically effortlessly pretentious sequences of music of composers whose names are not only too difficult to spell but also take up too much time deciding which from of approximate western spelling to use.  It was a real “welcome home” moment which I always get when the programme governing the selection is set to “song” so the jarring juxtapositions are deliciously violent!

I intend to sample more musical moments on the Third Floor where the sunshine is sending out its siren call for me to prostate myself like the devout worshiper I am.  The Spiritual Exercise I do as I lie there is to try not to think about my colleagues who will be slaving away in front of fresh-faced and eager children anxious to imbibe all the knowledge they can before expressing their gratitude for the privilege of being taught by such selfless professionals. 

I think that even Loyola would have problems with that particular religious task – and I am afraid that I am very much with Saint Augustine in his opinions (mostly quoted out of context) on things like chastity and faith to have a very lively prospect of my own person success - especially if a Father of the Church found the going hard!