Garden titivations, wrong dates and the cave bedroom

We live in such straitened circumstances in the house it is a real pleasure to occasionally blow some dosh on the garden where we spend 85 percent of our days.  So on a recent trip to buy a bathroom door we came home with what I jokingly refer to as a bedouin tent.  In reality it is a large domed area with a material covering atop and curtains around.  Sadly it was only available in, breathe deeply, taupe!  Natural colours are such a gambit in a household of self confessed mucky pups.  We also bought a gas bbq, 6 chairs with bright orange seating and then 2 funky relaxers.  We are using the excuse that the kids are coming in staggered visits across the summer to justify the expense.  So on the day James and William are due to arrive we find ourselves working to the line to get the temporary guest bedroom fillered, PVA’d and painted, the new garden furniture erected and a general clean and tidy of the garden.  At 5pm hot sweaty and both singularly frazzled we abluted in minutes and sallied forth to Sofia airport.  I sent a quick message to James to ensure he had arrived at Luton in good time and was surprised by the alacrity of the answer – that 24 hours was a tad early for a Wednesday flight.  In my usual scatterbrained fashion I had gotten the days wrong.  Fortunately we had not passed Levski so Terry, after delivering a long suffering sideways glance slammed on the anchors and we headed to Perfecmo to eat.  It wasn’t the best evening, in fact we sat and argued and could not find an iota of common ground.  There was a single moment when we looked across the table at each other and probably thought exactly the same thing about each other.  I have found the transition from being my own boss so to speak, to taking instruction  from someone else difficult.  My hands are firmly held high and I will say that at 55 I can confidently say I am not a team player.  Terry, who thrives on being the boss has miscalculated how badly I perform when `I do not have a clear idea of a end goal or have to hang around being a “gofor”.  To be succinct we are both leaders with healthy egos.  So having made our complaints and thoroughly pissed each other off we were delighted when Caz and Keith  expressed a wish to visit us so we finished our meal and headed back to Gradishte to pick them up fem the Supermarket in the square.  We bought them back to the building site, parked up in the bedouin tent and cracked the beers.  We sat munching crisps, tzatziki and olives till midnight whence we decamped to their domicile for a further few bevies.  I had to admit to having a drink problem, ergo, I don’t drink!  At 1am we were wending our way home having spend a pleasant hour in their very charming Bulgarian cottage.

We returned home to a rapturous welcome from Voula and Soula, the smiling grimace of Bodie and the helicopter tail of Vinnie leaving a trail of destruction in it’s wake.  As I opened up the door to our current bedroom I wished I had partaken of the yeasty fluid because anything that would soften the impact of the old tongue and grooved kitchen with a washing machine, freezer and larder fridge vying for space with a triple wardrobe a super kingsize bed, a chest and a dog bed would have been appreciated.  As I turned on the light a  gossamer veil of mosquitoes undulated in nosy unison around the hard white light of the bare bulb.  I put my hand into my handbag and as I sprayed myself from head to toe a third time that evening I wondered about the vagaries of coating my body in chemicals on such a regular basis.  Whilst the room has a pleasant aspect it has a low ceiling and an oppressive atmosphere and don’t even start me on the scurrying and scrabbling sounds in the quiet of night!  It will be good to move on from this particular room.  It’s having a complete overhaul soon.  The ceiling will be pulled down and then made a foot higher, the tongue and groove will be destined for the wood pile and the old kitchen plumbing work rerouted to what will become the new kitchen in the next room along.   That can’t happen till the roof is done and we have our deluxe rooftop bedroom.  Until that point we will have to put up with sleeping in what feels like a coffin!

Folks I will have to catch you up on the images another time otherwise this post will never get posted!



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