Real life does intrude somewhat into the idyll.
The other night, halfway through heating up the oven for a roast chicken dinner with the Lovely Son, I realised that the glossy nearly-new oven had given up the ghost. Nothing; no lights, no heat, nothing. Pot roast it had to be. I'm still eating leftovers.
Last night I broke a filling*, and now have what feels like a gigantic crater in my mouth. I have an urgent dental appointment tomorrow lunchtime, and will also shop for clothes pegs so that my washing can dry on the line that the LS put up for me the other day, (and triggering massive downpours of rain ever since). I have a feeling that my pegs, in the nice little bag that I made for them, are still hanging on the back door in Newcastle.
The drains had to be repaired too, after the surveyor had reported sinister cracks. The nice Lady Vendor booked the work to be done through her insurers, and two cheerful brothers arrived this morning, and began to tear up the small concreted area (another Project for improvement next year!) between house and garden. Thus:
It looks a bit like how my broken tooth feels..... No, I'm not taking photos of the inside of my mouth. I'm sure you would have wished me to, but no.
Some unavoidable damage was done to the old handmade terracotta tiles in the boiler cupboard, which used to be the outside loo. What a shame.
Then the Brothers Cheerful re-lined the drain from the boiler out to the neighbours' drive with fume-laden resin, using a high-tech system from Germany, requiring a strangely low-tech retro-looking machine. Thus:
Pure Flash Gordon, I think!
The dust was incredible, the generator noise almost unbearable, and it looked like this when they went home:
It will all be put right tomorrow morning, when the cats will have to be prevented from making catty little paw prints in wet cement. Unless I let them.....
*no, sillies, on a wasabi pea, not the chicken.