An irregular, irreverent, post-modern account of the surreal, the ordinary, and the bizarre happenings on and around the Felia lavender farm in Crete

Monday, March 06, 2006

Froggy went a courting


The Frambot is in pain - has been all day. His right arm is totally jiggered. Forearm rotation, shoulder flexion and hand extension. He has blisters on his right hand. He's paying for his exploits of yesterday. He spent most of the day servicing and then attempting to start Starsqui the brushcutter. A fine piece of Scandiwegian technology - the Husqvarna 325 LDX with easy start engine technology!

Instead of the air having been blue with the smoke of a two stroke engine it was blue with the indescribable expletives of the red overalled one. Eddie was hanging about the carage covered in filth and petrol and looking kind of sheepish. All afternoon Frambot was pulling on that starter cord. Now and then the engine would splutter into life briefly only to extinguish totally when he reached for the choke or the throttle. As the engine gasped its last Farmboy would produce yet another flood of cuss words. Originals every one.

Eventually the stink of petrol drove me round the other side to watch Gill potting out french lavender cuttings. Potting up night jasmine and morning glory. Laying stones gathered from the road alongside the newly cleared path. Planting out my new raspberry by the girls' run. And here was peace - perfect peace. No cursing, no ire, pure peace. A contemplative contrast to the anger and frustration just around the other side of the house. Cleaning up winter depredations on the avocado she pottered gently on - a vision of fulfillment.

A gale blew in this morning from the south so not much going on outside but the "proofs" of the book are coming along - 757 pages so far - set in DIN regular alternate at 1 and a half line spacing but, as has been said, no photos. That's going to be a fat little volume! Title? Provisionally, "The Lavender Way ~ the modem years". What do you think? No kite flying today - kites are traditional Clean Monday sport - unless you count the preceding. Lent starts. Bank Holiday here.

The Guv'nor and Gill are pulling their hair out as the inland revenue in the UK continue to harass them from a distance. Poor pensioners being stalked by comfortable civil servants - doesn't seem right somehow but as they say, the more things change the more they remain the same. The tax authorities have ever hassled the pair of them and all for no obvious reason.

We had a visitor last night - a frog or a toad - some type of amphibian anyway. G managed to stop the girls killing it and D photographed it! They're on good form lately!

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