The poolman packed up his tools and left on Friday. He was supposed to lay the paving but in the absence of materials he's moved onto his next job. This morning, bright and early, the stonemason is at the front gate with the new stone. 100 square metres of Travertine that should have been here a month ago. He tells me that his business has grown five fold during the lockdown.
The stone crates are so heavy that at one point the mechanical arm starts to bend and the safety mechanism shuts of the power. It is at this moment that Sophie emerges to find out what's going on. She is encouraged indoors. One universal law of PON ownership is that you can be 100% sure they will always show up at the worst possible moment.
Clear skies, a fresh breeze and a hint of warmth from the sun. Perfect conditions for out first walk of the day. The wild flowers not so much springing up as surging up. Our little patch of paradise full of bottled up energy. Sophie doesn't know it but she has her annual vat appointment this afternoon. Straight after lunch when we hope the surgery is quiet.
'The Font' has ordered some lanterns for the terrace. Four of them have broken glass. This is annoying as the firm has charged 90 euros for extra packaging and 'careful' delivery. I have some sympathy with delivery men but this one is in a hurry and is content to throw the boxes out of the back of his van. When I point out that 'Fragile' is written across the cartons he informs me that ' It ain't my look out' except he adds a colourful gerundival adjective to his thoughts.
Whoever knew there were shops specializing in nothing other than table cloths ? :https://www.summerillandbishop.com/collections/stripe
I have so many tablecloths... folded away in the drawer. I do like a tablecloth, though...
How infuriating about the lamps. Did Angus offer a counter-gerundive adjective for the deliverer's attitude?! I do hope refund/replace is not to onerous. YAM xx
Hopefully, Sophie's visit to the vet will go more smoothly than the rest of your day so far. Although, hopefully, the pool man will also show up again soon and the lamps can be replaced without too much bother. I'm with Yam on the tablecloths. I like them, but they seem to replicate while stored in the cupboard - I look forward to "someday" using them again.
This post reminds me of my brother and sister-in-law's saga with travertine floor tiles. To cut a long story short, after interminable delays in getting the tiles laid in the kitchen of the old Derbyshire farmhouse, within two weeks of them being installed the tiles were looking worse for wear due to muddy poodle paws and the porous nature of the tiles. Last I heard, at a cost of an extra £500, a specialist company had provided a sealant to protect the tiles. The floor does, however, look gorgeous in the photos I've been sent.
Best of luck with the pool.
No use for tablecloths these days, and those I do have are, like YAM's, folded away. I must say that those on the website look just plain boring, and the yellow stripes remind me of outdoor awnings I used to have.
That really is most annoying about the lamps, especially as you paid so much extra for packaging and careful handling.
Inca hopes Sophie is OK after her visit to the vet. She wants to warn Sophie that I resorted to subterfuge last Friday, when she was due at our vet for the first of her annual shots. I parked quite a way from the building and we went walk about before her appointment, so she didn't know where we were headed until the last minute. Too late to back out when she realised where we were, and she still considers this a mean and underhand trick. She hopes that Sophie doesn't have to put up with something so devious!
More to the point, who knew there's a market for steeply priced, hand painted, crumpled linen tablecloths with fussy washing instructions? Did you see the ones with nudes and pejorative writing? I definitely missed my calling during lockdown. During all this time I should have been chained to my sewing machine and whipping up wonky and exorbitantly priced tablecloths.
With angry French the best option is silence.
Sophie, the vet informs us, is in fine fettle.
The builder applied seven coatings of some strange preservative liquid to the last tiles he laid. It seems to work wonders unlike the untretaed ones which soon turn black.
Sophie , miraculously, is happy at the vets. She turned on her side for a doze and didn't even notice the jab. How lucky is that ?
The very idea that there are shops trading in just tablecloths gives me hope for the future. Bizarre but true.
Unbelievable prices for a tablecloth. Who pays that much?
Helen in France.
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