Will the good Lord please stop showering me with miracles? An ATM! In Almyrida – no more taxi trips to Kalyves to get cash. Of course if everywhere started taking debit cards then it wouldn’t be an issue. We ended up at the free WiFi spot last night, the whole family in a line, tapping away. So much for the simple life style, we were even communicating by MSN. Perry attracted a coterie of girls, who just had to keep walking past, and again, and again.
I woke up around six this morning with back ache and right sciatica. By eight I was in so much discomfort that I put on my swimsuit, and lay by the pool, hoping the heat would provide some relief. No such luck, so took the painkillers that Troy dissolved for me and went back to bed. Even the kids had a major league lie-in today, not surfacing until after twelve. When the shutters are closed the houses become so dark that it’s possible to sleep forever, almost. In fact, I woke them up because I was beginning to get a bit worried. A bite of breakfast, then straight into the pool to play water polo, water football, comedy jumps and fall out of the dinghy. Troy pumped up my ‘gin palace,’ a lilo with eighteen deep pockets to strengthen the construction, only for Xanthe to ask why it needed so many drinks holders.
I was alarmed to discover that I have become the sort of woman who moves a sun lounger around the pool, in order to get the best alignment with the sun. When the hell did that happen? My constant sun chasing is facilitated by the fact that we are the only people in The Olive Grove. It’s all pointless anyway, as I hardly tan at all. Troy somehow manages to sit in the shade all holiday, and still come home an impressive shade of brown.
This morning I had the obligatory phone call from work to ask when I was coming in today. This invariably happens when I am away, and I would probably feel a bit unwanted if it didn’t. Being without any internet access in the house is like having a limb cut off. Even for simple research, there is a small long bodied mammal living in the grove opposite. I know that this is either a stoat or a weasel. But I don’t know which or why, and I would like to. In any event the small rodent crunching mammal has a friend, a little finch that follows it everywhere, three feet behind, as though it is tied to its tail by a invisible string. Shame the kids are too old for a series of that kind of stories.
The pruned pomegranates are now sitting on the low front wall, waiting to ripen.
I woke up around six this morning with back ache and right sciatica. By eight I was in so much discomfort that I put on my swimsuit, and lay by the pool, hoping the heat would provide some relief. No such luck, so took the painkillers that Troy dissolved for me and went back to bed. Even the kids had a major league lie-in today, not surfacing until after twelve. When the shutters are closed the houses become so dark that it’s possible to sleep forever, almost. In fact, I woke them up because I was beginning to get a bit worried. A bite of breakfast, then straight into the pool to play water polo, water football, comedy jumps and fall out of the dinghy. Troy pumped up my ‘gin palace,’ a lilo with eighteen deep pockets to strengthen the construction, only for Xanthe to ask why it needed so many drinks holders.
I was alarmed to discover that I have become the sort of woman who moves a sun lounger around the pool, in order to get the best alignment with the sun. When the hell did that happen? My constant sun chasing is facilitated by the fact that we are the only people in The Olive Grove. It’s all pointless anyway, as I hardly tan at all. Troy somehow manages to sit in the shade all holiday, and still come home an impressive shade of brown.
This morning I had the obligatory phone call from work to ask when I was coming in today. This invariably happens when I am away, and I would probably feel a bit unwanted if it didn’t. Being without any internet access in the house is like having a limb cut off. Even for simple research, there is a small long bodied mammal living in the grove opposite. I know that this is either a stoat or a weasel. But I don’t know which or why, and I would like to. In any event the small rodent crunching mammal has a friend, a little finch that follows it everywhere, three feet behind, as though it is tied to its tail by a invisible string. Shame the kids are too old for a series of that kind of stories.
The pruned pomegranates are now sitting on the low front wall, waiting to ripen.
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