We have an inconvenient street light immediately in front of our house. It has an orange glow which glows all night and illuminates our hallway. We don’t need to use the light at the front of our house because the street light does the job. It’s light also creeps across our bedroom floor.
Coming to live here from Burghclere, where there were no street lights, I found the Underhill street lighting difficult. I didn’t really want it there, because I like the dark, very dark, and I couldn’t understand why it was on all night. Solar perhaps – has to die down.
Shortly after midnight, last night, I was disturbed. Very disturbed. This street light, with which I was by now best of friends, was not on. A deep, unaccustomed dark pervaded our hallway and bedroom. I had to blunder my way to the ensuite.
Had someone seen sense and switched it off? Was it on strike? Tomorrow might reveal all.
I’m pleased to report that I made it to morning in one piece. And even had a little bit of a lie in before the lovely cleaners arrived. They did their job and T and I contemplated going out. The only problem was his idea of going out was a bit different from mine, which was for the sole purpose of walking H.
There was a bit of a commotion going on outside and our exit into the road was blocked. The commotion was the presence of a pot hole team who were there for repairs outside our house. As we finally escaped, I commented that I would be glad to see the back of the horrid hole. However the chief repairer was quick to reassure me that it would be back again in a couple of weeks.
We arrived in Pangbourne and I wrapped T up in a down duvet coat. It was around 8C. From almost his first step, he complained about the cold. Put on a sulk, and stood still. H had a quick run around as she and I strode on, just to make sure she had cleared the Meadows of any loitering birds. T became a distant (pin) prick.
After a while, I could see T was on his way back to the car, so I made haste to stop him wandering off somewhere. I refused to take him for a coffee anywhere because I pointed out he had not done anything to earn it. He retired to bed. I made him a roll and some other tasty items which he ignored and snored the afternoon away.
I had started to paint that picture of Houmas Beach earlier in the day, so I resumed work on it this afternoon. Watercolours are very unforgiving! I have a few problems with sunbeds; a missing litter bin; shadows and I’ve added a few extra stripes to the Greek flag. At least observers don’t say ‘that’s good’ when it’s not, or ‘I recognise that tree’ when they don’t.
At 18.00, I needed to leave for Marlow to collect Fleur from hockey. I think she is in a bit of a wobbly state still after losing Sephy yesterday. However knowing that she was on borrowed time, they had started to discuss what to do with that corner of F’s bedroom that Sephy occupied. But it must be hard going to bed without her hamster scrabbling busily away. Being nocturnal and all that.
Finding my way to Marlow hockey pitch was far from straight forward. Pound Lane in Marlow is long and winding through a widespread housing estate. I was quite convinced I was barking up the wrong tree. But the floodlights were a bit of a giveaway. Once I had found the correct floodlights as opposed to the tennis ones.
The parents are off to a cheese tasting at the connoisseur cheese shop in Pangbourne, along with DCR, who is working in the area. Whilst poor old Pen festers on at a parents’ evening in Devon.
Unless I am mistaken, a miracle has occurred. The underfloor heating has kicked into operation in the living room. Not been working since we returned from Greece. I’ve had stern words with the CH company, who continue to prevaricate. But this evening I detected warmth in the living room floor and on the outside of the door on the bit of floor which connects the kitchen to the living room. How and why remains a mystery.
The street light – well it went off again last night at around midnight. Great! Perhaps it’s become a financial cut! A pity T left his study light on.
Thought for the Day
It is a year since Putin and his bullies ordered the invasion of Ukraine.
I think of Lena and Timur and their family and how their life has changed. They probably only expected to be here for a few weeks.
This is Lena’s last message to me from a few days ago:
Hi Ursula.
We are fine. Yesterday we were in Cambridge, met with friends. Timur likes the school very much, he fell in love with a girl, and takes care of her. He constantly tells me about her. Everything is fine at work, I got used to it. The colleagues are good, I like everything. I like West Bridgeford, it’s a beautiful place.
How are you? What’s new?
We hug you tightly!Miss you.
🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰
Timur is 7 now and has outgrown the clothes he arrived with. He is on his second school and he speaks English with confidence. Lena is being hosted by her second family and she has a good job. Life in Nottingham seems to be suiting them.
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