Backwards

Song of the day: “Under pressure” by Queen and David Bowie. I don’t even like this song, darn it, so what the heck was it doing in my head most of the day.

I’m going to have to do this backwards again, because my brain just refuses to get the information out otherwise. The brain, oh my poor brain. It can’t contain it all. Hah.

First off, just half an hour ago, we were in town. Yep. We had to get a new jackhammer drill, because the old one decided to up and die on us the other day. Also, what with the basin finally clean, we had to get another bucket of swimming pool paint, because the buckets we have won’t be enough.

While we were out we also went to the big sports store and bought me a pair of boots for winter. My favorites are starting to fall about at the seam, so it can’t be postponed any longer, darn it.
Since my usual size 10 was a little small, and 10 ½ wasn’t there, I took a size eleven, which will allow for double socks. Yay. Since the bigger size will also allow for my insoles, which is a definite plus, considering my foot was driving me friggin’ bonkers today.

At one of the supermarkets (we had to get chloride) we talked with a vagrant for a bit. He was a mechanic from Germany, apparently. He could speak four languages and yet he was unable to land a job. Now, considering the way he looked that didn’t surprise me all that much, but you can hardly tell the fella that, now can you? Ah well, he said he was trying to get back to Germany but didn’t manage it. We ended up giving him a euro just because he managed to sound cohesive even though he failed to look like anything more than a junkie. *sigh* It’s sad.

But anyway, today’s edit didn’t go at all well. For some reason our focus was completely off, which is definitely not a good thing when you’re trying to pay attention to details and flow of a book. Darn it.

Cooking was an experiment again. Lasagne disks boiled in a broth, with a vegetable mix on the side. It worked out rather well, I’ve got to admit. Had the nausea thing again, so I didn’t manage to eat a full meal of it, but there were leftovers so no harm done.

Big brother spent the morning fixing grandpa’s fence, while grandpa and I worked on sorting through our supply of paint cans. Boy were there a lot of those. It took us about an hour to check them all, number them and make a list before we put them away in the new closet grandpa and big brother made.

Since we had a batch of bolognaise sauce standing around that was just a day short of the expiration date, I poured it into dog bowls and gave them a breakfast they won’t soon forget (it took about five minutes, I think. Hah). They loved it, in case you’re wondering and slobbered the whole mess up in five seconds flat.
Then there was breakfast for us humans, preceded by sorting through some stuff in the carport, and folding my daily batch of laundry, of course.

Last night, after a rather wonderful workout, thank you very much, there was a massive thunderstorm raging in the west. It was all very impressive, really. Huge lightning bolts would streak across the sky, and clouds rumbled in. I just had to stand on my terrace for a bit and watch nature’s might.
There was another edit, of course, and luckily the one yesterday didn’t go at all bad. Managed to get up to an eighth of the story.

Kenneth was upset last night. Turns out we’d forgotten her down by the basin, and she’d spent several hours on her own there before we realized the mistake. The poor cocker spaniel’s heart was going completely pita pat when big brother finally realized and went to fetch her. Poor darling.

There was a much-needed dip in the pool, since both big brother and I spent about an hour in the basin (after grandpa finished working in it with acid) taking out water and dirt. The cleaning did go well and we should have the thing done for the painting at last.

Before that was another harvest. Got beans and tomatoes on the most part, along with some melons, which we have to harvest early because otherwise rats or mice get to them

Edits and cooking preceded and while working on the lanterns that I’m determined to hang down the entire length of the main path, I had to jog down the mountain to water some plants, rather than risk having them die on us. I’ve got to say that’s one of the few minuses of Spain, if you ask me. Water. If you don’t invest in it, a yard/garden just doesn’t work.

While big brother was hanging the lantern that I’d already finished, I tagged my newly canned beans and vegetable soup. It will be interesting to see how long the whole lot will keep in the future. Since I was busy with the pots anyway, I sorted the batches inside storage as well. No sense in being busy with it if you’d just have to get back to it within no time.

Well, that’s it for me today. I need sleep, fast. Well, there’s more than a page and a half anyway, so I did my duty. Hah.

Un-romanticised

Song of the day: ...actually I don’t have a clue as to which song has been in my head for the past few days. Might be that there were too many, because for the life of me, my brain is keeping silent about the whole thing.

So I can’t get anything straight in my head, so I’m just going to sum up whatever the heck deems it necessary to pop up. Right. Canning.
Did that twice in the past four days. First off there were the green beans and the vegetable soup, nine pots of the first and five of the second. Was a very feminine affair, what with tenant and Dani and I breaking and chopping veggies for most of the afternoon. Considering it was a rather cool day to boot, it was a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.

We did get to talking about the youth of today, and we had to agree that the problem these days is the fact that in an attempt to give people a sense of freedom, folks have un-romanticized life in general, and in particular love. Seriously, what do you expect from kids with raging hormones when you explain to them that sex is just a fun bodily function? Responsible behavior? (May I ask what universe you’re from) Puhlease!
Most adults can’t even handle it, so why should teens be any better. Nope. I definitely put the blame with those who say that you shouldn’t wait for the right person. Those who claim that sex is just a fun way to spend time with someone you like and know…or met that day, because if you have to wait for anything, well, that would be just mean. Whatever happened to telling a child that sex is something beautiful people do when they love each other, want to spend the rest of their lives together and want to make a baby together? Whatever happened to that lofty ideal? What was wrong with that image? What? The disappointment of not finding that person would be just too big to bear so better not hold out for it? *sigh* It makes me sad, really. I think a bit of romanticizing (and I don’t mean the sexed-up Hollywood of this day and age with that) would do the youth of today a lot of good. It would me. All that realism of sex just being a bodily function (the proverbial itch to scratch) isn’t doing it for me. I want the soul mate bit, that special person just right for me, that special idea of walking across the street some day and looking into the eyes of that one person you can’t live without to whom you’ll say: “What the heck took you so long?” You know what I mean, right? That special something that will be special because you waited for it, and which, in the end, turns out to be worth waiting for.
*double sigh* I know. I'm way too romantic at times, but I can't help it. You gotta admit though: Gawd, that would be so nice. Ah well…

Back to usual.
Like the two days before it, we had chilli with chickpea/lentil patties, which went down really well after the work. And then today we canned the yellow tomatoes. It was more an experiment than anything, but it worked out nicely. We now have a two liter soup pot, which should serve as a good meal sometime this winter. Which reminds me, today we had spaghetti with Parmesan and sun dried tomatoes. Went down rather nicely too. Hah.

Besides the tomato we did today, there was also a big batch of pickles to can. It went wrong a couple of times, but in the end it got done, meaning we have another batch to put away for winter.

Since there was the canning, there was also the harvesting. The bit of bad news this day is that we have a disease raging war on our tomatoes, and regretfully the tomatoes are losing. Big brother and I were forced to take out five plants already, and since their fruits weren’t done yet, I’m hoping that they’ll at least turn orange. *sigh*

There was a trip to town, which annoyed me enough that I won’t go in too much detail about that. Only thing that I will share is that I was getting mighty uncomfortable with people starting at me. I finally thought to check, and there you have it, the button of my blouse had gone loose, showing waaay too much of my hot-pink bra. Jeez. Talk about embarrassing. Luckily the looks stopped after that.

I have yanked weeds, plucked brambles and strawberries, and pulled more weeds. Lots of those going on, by the way. They’re nice and high now, allowing for pretty easy pulling. Hah.

There was a quick trip to bring Sally to work. The bus wasn’t running at the usual time, so she needed a ride. Since I was friggin’ hot from plucking green beans for about an hour, the ride was nicely cooling.

I spent an afternoon in the basin spraying the walls and floor. Apparently our brain left us, because we forgot the other day that we were supposed to spray the walls after using the acid. *sigh* While I was in, I discovered to relatively big holes in the plaster work of the basin, so I had to fix those too.

Afterwards I headed down the yard to water the young eucalypti. They’re looking well, but since we want them to grow fast, frequent watering is the only solution. Gonna have to do the same for our tree nursery tomorrow, and the pumpkins that are doing so very splendid. We’ve got a stash of more than twenty pumpkins hanging in the carport.

Took a moment to wash the lawn chairs in front of my cabin. They were getting to be so dirty I didn’t feel like sitting on them anymore. I scrubbed them and then left them to dry within less than five minutes, due to the warmth.

Plucking wise, I hunted ticks a lot these past few days. They’re everywhere again, darn it, and I don’t like it. Whenever a dog comes close I MUST pluck that one take, and that one, and the next and the next. It’s a bit scary, really.

I also edited, of course, but since for you that would be totally boring to read about, I'll skip that too. Hah.

Managed to clean the floors in my cabin too, which makes my living arrangement vastly more doable. And the new floors make it so darn easy it should be illegal.
I’ve gotta get to bed. I’m way tired. I’ve practically typed this thing with my eyes closed so pardon the typoes.

In dreams...

Song of the day: “Lay lady lay” by Gemma Hayes and Magnet. I know the original is from Bob Dylan, but this is the one I know better. Hah.

So, yeah, I had an awesome dream, which means I’m not going to bore you with daily stuff like gardening, harvesting, editing and all that. Seriously, it was great so I’m totally going to share that.

Right, here we go.

The sound was deafening. A high screech much like that of summertime cicadas resounding across barren hills and valleys. In the distance some green vegetation broke the infinite stretch of gray and yellow. But it was a mediocre change, one that meant little for me as I resided there where heat sweltered, the atmosphere still, yet undulating. Air literally simmering around me, the sun beating down from it’s high perch as I squatted on the hilltop. Below me, deep down a jagged rock wall, a ravine slashed from east to west. No matter which way I looked, it slashed through the land, a physical boundary that would allow no one to pass, no matter how badly you wanted to cross.
With the tip of a snake-leather boot, is send a rock tumbling, watched it roll down the incline and then disappeared into the ravine never to be seen again. While still listening to hear it hit the bottom, I raised a handful of sand from the ground and let it escape from my fist in a steady stream. It made a straight line down, no detour, no sway, just straight down. Not a good sign. Not now. Not ever.
Slowly, careful not to make a sound, I straightened. Brushing my hands off on the faded denim of my jeans, I slowly began my descent down to the ravine’s edge. My hat, a wide-set western affair of some tan material, protected my face from the afternoon sun, but my shoulders, revealed by the sleeveless top that covered my upper body, were bare to the constant assault.
Rubble rolled ahead of me, my feet having trouble finding purchase on the steep incline that barely allowed passage. I managed to reach the ravine’s edge, however, and came to a skidding halt.
Strangely unaffected by my fear of heights, I leaned across the edge to peer down. Nothing. Ten feet down from the top, nothing except blackness replaced the reddish edges of the ravine.
From below an awful stench rose, and though pungent it did not rise higher than about three feet above the ravine.
Without taking my eyes off the blackness, my hand slipped down to my thigh and grabbed hold of the revolver I wore there. The worn grip fit perfectly in my hand, and checked the ammunition before I dropped it back into the leather holster. With a final look around I edged closer to the edge of the ravine and peered around until I saw what I was looking for. There, to the left, was a narrow ledge. It was little more than nine feet down, and yet it seemed an interminable drop.
One last look around. Only barren desert and no breeze to lighten the impact of the sun. With one final breath, I took three leaping steps and jumped down.
Heat and dirt swirled around me. And then a jarring sensation under the bottom of my feet now that I hit the ledge. I went through my knees, cushioned the fall as best I could with flexing muscles and then went into a controlled roll that had me end up on one bent knee, the revolver once again in my hand.
Suspiciously I squinted into the darkness, noted the deeper recesses where the grayish light from above wouldn’t reach and then settled on the ledge that slashed downward at a 25 degree slant.
Knowing, without knowing how, that I had to go that way, I kept the gun in hand and started down the sloping path. It looked hand-hewn to me, sharp edges where chisel and hammer had been used in countless hours of manual labor that would have been back breaking.
Cautiously I made my way down, the gun in my hand unwavering on the darkness ahead of me, and my ears sharpened for anything threatening. My feet, the smooth leather soles of the boots giving little purchase, skid and slide on the steep path, but I manage to hold my course as I descend deeper and deeper into the darkness.
“Thrrrit!”
I jump at the sound, my finger on the trigger almost tightening as I spin around. Nothing. Behind me the path is lit better than before, and there’s no sign either in front of behind me of whatever it was making the sound.
My breath leaks out gradually, silently too, as I lower my weapon just a little and resume my way down.
Ten more steps and then, “Thrrrit, thrrrit.” I ground my teeth, repeat the procedure of before but see nothing, not behind and not in front. Instead, if my guess is correct, the sound appeared to have come from the side, there where the path doesn’t go and where few hundred-foot plunge was my only problem.
Wearily, I pan the darkness, unsure whether to continue downward, or head back up where the light at least will aid me. There is no choice, really. It is essential that I get to the bottom of the ravine, no matter what.
Determined, I once again continue on my way. The ridge, or ledge, appears to go on endlessly, but I am relentless. I hear the Thrrrit sounds three more times, but other than that there is nothing to stop me from going down into the abyss of blackness.
There, some odd hundred feet down, I suddenly see something. A red glow, fire almost sizzles it seems. Like a serpent of sorts, it slithers and crawls across the ravine bottom, its movements lazy and fascinating.
My progress stopped, I can only stare down at where the orange light coils and stretches, and I wonder, once again, if I am doing the right thing. Still no choice. I know it. Feel it. And with a deep fortifying breath I continue on my way.
“Thrrrit. Thrrrit. Thrrrit!” Used to the sound by now, I am almost too late to dodge to the side when something scaly, something huge bursts from the darkness.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I chant, quickly backing up, and bringing the revolved up to aim. I manage only one shot before something sharp slices across my wrist, numbing my fingers to the point that I lose hold of the gun.
It all went to fast, I only have a vague impression of scaly, moth-like wings, a massive almost shaggy head, and a snake’s tail.
My gun thuds to the ground, as I dodge to the side in the nick of time. Rolling under an overhang, I only take a moment to glance at my wrist. Liquid circles it like a bracelet, and though I cannot see the color, I know that I’m bleeding. It doesn’t hurt. Not yet. It will, though. Soon.
Gnawing my lip, I look at the ledge, and my gun, before I take a survey of the surrounding darkness. Nothing. The sound isn’t there either and with a fortifying breath I force myself to get to my feet. I’m a bit dizzy, but I manage to keep my balance as I rush to the weapon and scoop it up. My right hand won’t hold the weapon, but luckily my left can cope in an emergency.
Clasping it tightly, I start to run, my ears primed for the warning sound. This time I’m prepared, at a slight curb the thrrrit thrrrit come from straight ahead and I don’t hesitate as I raise the gun and fire. No effect, it seems, and it, whatever it is, keeps coming at me. Rather than do what every instinct inside me is screaming for me to do, I duck, just as it reaches me, and push away from the ledge. Mid-air I curl my body up tight, and stretch out just as I reach the ground. With bone-jarring impact I land, refuse to go down and spin on my heel.
The thrrrit, thrrrit is right above me, and I go flat out on my back as I fire at the shaggy face just three feet away from my own.
A scream, my own or the creatures, I don’t know, fills my ears and then it’s over. My alarm goes off, and I blink up at the wooden slats of my cabin.

*sigh*
Seriously, I would have liked to know what the curly fire thing at the bottom of the ravine was, but what the heck. Maybe I’ll continue with the dream some other night. It would be grand, wouldn’t it, a sequel dream. Ah well, we’ll see.

Last bit:
Today was mostly about preparing for tomorrow’s canning session, thank you very much. I washed pots while grandpa and big brother washed the basin walls and floor with some sort of acid (we want to paint it two days from now) and then cooked supper with tenant and caregiver. Since we’ve got a big load of cucumbers, we also experimented with gazpacho, which didn’t turn out bad at all.

The melon harvest is doing splendid, by the way. We’ve got more than twenty melons in various stages of being ready and have been eating an average of 2-3 melons a day, for several days now. Yummy.
Well, I’ve got to go.

A bit of this, a bit of that

Song of the day: “A song for whoever” by the Beautiful South. Beautifully sung, and yet a funny lyric. Hah.

So the evening before yesterday was spent with a solid workout, which felt absolutely grand, despite excessive sweating. It was friggin’ chilly that day, by the way. But during the workout that apparently made no difference whatsoever. *sigh*
Luckily it did let me get to bed in time, so I might actually have managed a full night’s sleep this week. Hah

There was the usual dip in the pool followed by laundry, and then up to the Land Rover to unload from the night before. We were just too tired to do so the night before, and I basically passed out.

Tenant and I walked down again, before I helped grandpa and big brother haul 1500 pounds of cement to the storage behind my cabin. Since Big brother was busy doing other stuff, I finally got around to cleaning my old fake plants for my room. Looks soooo nice.

It was cloudy, cool weather again…at least it was yesterday. Today the heat went up again.

Anyway, most of yesterday was spent digging behind my cabin. There was dirt to get away, rock to chop out, and stuff to wheelbarrow away to this section in the middle of the yard where we can store the stuff that will fill up the future porch.

Luckily, Big brother offered to bake macaroni, because I was in no mood to cook yesterday. I am, or late bothered, once more by the same old nausea, and eating, at the moment is a chore that I don’t particularly look forward to. Ah well, who cares anyway.

Once the spot was dug out, grandpa and I did most of that, we had to wedge rocks under my cabin, because, let’s face it, we’ve got some tiny dogs that will literally get under anything if they set their minds to it…and some of them do, I assure you. Jeez!

That done, we could paint the lower edge of the cabin (lead paint to protect it against winter’s wetness) and hang the new storage closets, which fit right in…at least until we get around to adding a roof and wall.

There was another much needed dip at the end of the day, because regardless of the coolness there was a lot of moisture in the air, which made me sticky as heck.

Next thing the evening was filled with a long session of editing, which didn’t go all that bad, nor did it go on endlessly, considering we had to shave Sonia, who was covered with knots and such from these pesky grass ends that keep getting stuck in the dogs’ fur.

Of course we had to go out again to pick up some donations…seriously, there’s way too much of that going on these, days, but one does what one must to make a living, eh? Besides, there was some good 2nd hand stuff for the market there.
Did end up getting to bed way too late. Seriously, I was at the verge of passing out by the time we got home. Woke up in time this morning, regardless. Am not at all looking to repeat the oversleeping bit from the other day. Which reminds me, I had a splendid dream that night, which I shall share in the near future, yay!

So that brings us to today, which started with the normal routine of morning rituals, a dip in the pool, laundry coffee and then hauling part of the preserves of the few weeks up to the new storage.

Next came the unloading of the car, again, at which time we were interrupted by a strange squealy sound. What we saw was a soaring Bonelli’s Eagle. Seriously, it was huge, and it was just circling overhead.

While grandpa started to attach hooks to the temporary, rubber curtain for the storage closets, big brother and I hung hooks for the “rod”. It doesn’t look bad, I’ve got to admit.

In light of my determination to slowly get my cabin in shape again, I finally got around to putting clean pillowcases over the cushions of my chairs. So there is still a lot to do, but I’m trying at least.

Cooked supper of beets with potatoes in their jackets. It was yummy, despite my consequent nausea. Grrr. There was another edit, playing with the dogs, and then heading into the yard to turn on drip systems and harvesting.

Got a good batch of tomatoes, green beans, peppers and even a zucchini. Yay. I’m already looking forward to the chilli and patties I intend to make tomorrow…which is not smart to think about in regards to my unruly stomach. Darn it.

Though we managed two edits in total, I don’t like the lack of pages done, but what the heck, it’s not like I can change that, now can I? I had wanted to do another training session, but editing turned out to be less speedy then intended. Even now it is well past midnight, which means that I have to wrap this up and start getting ready for the night.

Okay, doing that now. Have a good one, I’m out.