STORMS INCOMING

With thunderstorms forecast for today and a glowering sky overhanging us when we rose today the work schedule for Sunday was going to be a challenge for all of us. We've been in such a mood of "can do' since Aunty Pingu left this enchanted isle that the very idea of an enforced lay-off was anathema. Despite aches and pains all round we were all working out the tensions and the muscle spasms within minutes of rising. The diurnal chores provide a great warm-up for tired, and damaged, bodies - and the minds and wills needed no prompting.

The Farmboy twins, as we now refer to Eddie and Ceddie had successfully painted the potting shed ceiling yesterday and had followed that up with a second coat for the exterior thereof. The gravel had been spread in all directions and awaited a real test - thunderstorms might just do the trick.

A new layer of the small gravel covers the path to the girls' run and the gravel inside the run has also been topped up ready for winter. The tomatoes have been trussed and tied in preparation for wind and rain. What more could need doing? Surely today, being a Sunday, should qualify as a day of rest? Not here, not with this cast of atheistic characters. Everyone was raring to go - to defy the elements and carry on. And then the phone rang!

Well, that phone call put a crimp in all our plans - a nice crimp but a crimp nonetheless. The telephone does not ring here often but that it's a wrong number or "lathos". Our number is, but for the final digit, the number of the local hairdresser. Given that it was a Sunday it was unlikely that this call was a "lathos" and so it proved. Voula and Baby Stelios were on their way round for a visit. And so we passed a pleasant hour or so with our close neighbours and friends, catching up on gossip and local developments, exchanging news of family and friends, discussing travel plans (Voula's not ours).

Al this while we sat outside for the day was warm, but still the skies threatened and once Stelios and his mother had been escorted back to the taverna all hand were figuratively put to the pumps. The twins finally lit the bonfire that they had been planning for days. The rubbish and building materials under the olive tree outside Georgi's apartment was cleared away and or tidied into his cellar: weeds were uprooted and fed to the roaring fire to clear the way. The accumulated DIY detritus that had been building in the carage since the moratorium on fires was declared in May went the same way. When the rains eventually arrived everything that could be burned had been burned - the incinerator smouldered on for an hour or so but the big clean up was achieved before the weather closed us down.

Now if tomorrow is fine (or dry at least) there is the area behind the incinerator that needs weeding out, the front garden could do with some weeding and tidying, there's a plant or two that needs potting on, there is more white paint left and much to be painted; the upstairs back shutters need rubbing down and Gorriing .... Is there no end to what needs doing? No. None.