I have been left to my own devices to keep the home fires burning. Liam has flown back to Blighty to take care of his folks. Father-in-law is in hospital and mother-in-law needs a little TLC. His siblings are all doing a turn and Liam is the opening act. So, I have two weeks home alone to fiddle, twiddle and scribble. What to do? There are a few odd jobs to do around the house; they may help to keep me out of mischief.
With winter lurking out to sea, I climbed onto the roof this morning to shut off the water supply from the solar panels. This involved clambering up two rotting wooden ladders and being horse-whipped by the canopy of a giant tree dripping with almost-ripe olives. It has to be done, otherwise the bathroom water heater won’t work. Don’t ask me why. It’s one of the great mysteries of the modern era, like Stonehenge. One of these days I’m going to break my neck.
For no reason other than the title of this post I give you the Pet Shop Boys.
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