Last Holiday, Sans Peanut, Day 4
Starting to feel better. It's cool and windy outside but no longer like the set of Seven. And suddenly it all becomes very civilized ... we have breakfast, I grab a shave, we settle in to read. But after lunch this is all too much for C, and the darkness wells up again, so she phones around until she finds an electrician who will charge us $1200 to $1400 to upgrade the electrical. Unfortunately, my flinching muscles blew out ages ago. I can't even muster a reaction when C tells me how delightfully French he is!
Everyone always comments on how wonderful the cottage is (or the idea of it is). But you know what else it is? It's the plumbing, the roof, the stairs down to the beach, the yard, the raising, the stones on the sea wall, the windows, the shed, the yard, the stove, the doors, the sinks, the beds, the chairs ... it's all this stuff that eats and eats, like that plant in the Little Shop of Horrors.
Still, C's mood always improves dramatically whenever she's promised a grand or two to some workman, so she starts to hum and busy herself with little things around the cottage. I make her promise not to start moving furniture around but when I turn my back to wash some dishes I catch her trying to sneak by with a mattress.
Anyway, all of this turns out to be small beer compared to the appliance rescue we get roped into quite suddenly after supper, when Catherine shows up with a need for bodies to haul, among other things, a washer and dryer (from her dad's place in a neighbouring town -- long story). Let the vacation begin!
Cigar-tin story #36.