The problem really is that I've been here since the 2nd but only yesterday did I come across something that cooked hot food - an electric plug-in grill that provided a welcome bacon sandwich. Any port in a storm! The cooker here is broken and my replacement won't be delivered until Thursday - and even then it won't be up and working because the chap who's fitting the new kitchen isn't free until next week. He thinks he's coming to put up a new fence but, oh boy, do I have news for him! I'm starving! I wouldn't mind if living on crispbread and tuna fish or sardines had lost me a pound or two but there's no discernible difference so I'm hankering for a hot meal and lots of chocolate.
I wish I could find my camera so I could upload photos for you but I can't find it. The place is in such a state with boxes piled so high that I need serious, rugby-league help to lift them. I've learned a lesson since I spent the first week in pain after continuing to heave and carry boxes from room to room after the first warning signals - now, if I get a twinge, that's it for the day. I am, however, making progress and I'm delighted but my bank manager is not because in my case 'making progress' is a synonym for spending tons of cash.
The gardens, such as they are, are lifeless and devoid of wildlife - it's very sad. One of the first things I bought was a bird feeding station - a black twirly thing with lots of hooks that looks as if it might be suited to supporting a politician or two but, in reality, wouldn't take their weight. I erected it at the back and waited eagerly for word to get round that there was a new 5* restaurant in town - 'FatBallsRUs'. Hmmm... Not a tweet, not a twitter, not a cheep; nothing except one woodlouse swimming for his life in the birds' drinking water. I may have to reconsider siting it.
The other big job I've begun, but can't finish because it almost finished me, is digging out the overgrown shrubbery and ivy that has all but murdered light and space in the front garden. I'm hoping that my intervention has rescued the lilac tree that was infected by a fungus and from which the ivy was greedily sapping life. There are three or four good suckers that I can cultivate but it will take a year or two until they reach full height. I love lilacs.
It's a shame I haven't stumbled across my camera yet: it would have been nice to show you a photo of my fingernails - a sort of 'before' and 'after'. Now you'll just have to take my word for it that they were, a few short weeks ago, long, painted and elegant. I decided to buy raised beds rather than have them made and they arrive later this week/early next together with 1800 litres of compost/peat/vermiculite/water granules/tomorite/hanging baskets and so on and so on. By the time I've finished all this, what nails I once had will be a distant memory and the only ones of which I'll have any knowledge will be the masonry type.
Suki says 'miaow' and sends the latest pics of himself - the first is of him setting paw into the open air for the first time in two years and the second is after wearing himself out chasing woodlice and slugs around the ground floor: he's so disorientated now that he follows me around more than ever - he's even taken to sitting on the bathroom chair while I bathe, which I find slightly surreal and rather spooky to be honest.
I'm sorry the post is a bit long and rambling but so much has happened that it's difficult to be concise. Think yourselves lucky that I haven't mentioned my lovely postie with the smiley face and the glorious Devon accent. I'm not too keen on the bin-men though: they didn't take last week's bin which was bequeathed to me, full of smelly rubbish, by the previous owners. I haven't got to grips with recycling down here yet either- it's different everywhere you go. And that reminds me, I must let the Council know I'm here... and the gas... and the electricity...and the water...
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