Earlier and earlier

 

Earlier and earlier

In a bid to enjoy the freshness of the morning and give the dogs a chance to stretch their legs before the heat sets in, we have been getting up earlier and earlier. Consequently, we are going to bed while there is still much light still in the sky.

That makes me feel like a child again, lying in bed listening to the birds, while other people are still up and about. It makes a pleasant change, though the day seems curiously truncated, with 3:00 pm feeling as though it’s five hours later.

This morning, we were up – I was going to say ‘bright and early’, but it transpired that some of us weren’t as awake or aware as others. Barry disappeared downstairs to make coffee and then reappeared a short while later. He had put his trousers on over his pyjamas. It wouldn’t have mattered, really, as they were pyjama shorts, and no-one would have known. He just felt he didn’t actually need the extra layer.

In other world-startling news, my elderly ‘for the time being’ laptop which was pressed into service has been replaced by my newly repaired computer, the one with the pretty LED lights.

 As it is now effectively a new machine, everything has had to be reinstalled. The hunt for passwords and other verifications has been long and trying. Tempers have occasionally been shorter than they should have been, but now, all is well. We just had a brief hiccough with the bank, which initially refused to recognise the new/old/new machine, but that has been resolved, too.

Just one or two things still to deal with . . . shouldn’t take long . . . oh, those weasel words!

 

Simon's Cat

Simon’s Cat is a cat cut from a different pattern . . .

The story behind the SkyWatch Friday photos

The photograph here is different to the SkyWatch Friday photos – honestly! Okay, it's not a lot different to the untrained eye (that's supposed to make me sound as though I know something about astronomy – I don't!)
Anyway, yesterday was a very busy day, tidying, cleaning, repairing, painting, gardening. All this untypical, even unprecedented behaviour is because we are having company on Sunday and one of the party is coming to our house for the first time. Yikes! Suddenly, all the nose smudges (from the dogs, I hasten to add) seem even more noticeable, and the mud splatters where the canines have shaken excess water from their coats have put a delicate finishing touch to the side swiped patches from muscular bodies (again, from the dogs, in case you're wondering.) Aesthetically, in a painting, say, it looks quite attractive. (Who am I trying to kid?)

We can't do much about the chewed stair treads and the frayed carpet that successive dogs, but mostly Gus, have munched. The dust of what seems like ages but is in reality AGES can be removed fairly quickly, making a few spiders homeless until they take up residence in the downstairs loo again and have to be persuaded elsewhere. (The vacuum cleaner seems a perfect des. res.) The quaintly named dust bunnies, which in our abode are more akin to amorphous dead creatures of uncertain lineage, are swept up or vacuumed several times a day, and still they come. Perhaps I should shave the animals? I'm sure they'd be cooler and feel fresher. White hairs from the Dalmatians cling to every dark surface while the Labradors' black hairs collect on the paler furnishings. Dust, dust everywhere and equally is it shared.

I'm told that having a companion animal lowers blood pressure and steadies heart rate. Pet owners are calmer, happier, live longer. Has anyone researched the effect of several animals on health and temper? I digress – one of the few things the only thing at which I am expert.

We stopped for lunch – a proper cooked lunch, quite unheard of at this address – and Barry said, 'It's going to be a lovely clear night. I think we'll do some astrophotography.'

I thought, 'H'mm, that means we'll be eating a late supper.'

After lunch we did a lot more clearing and hammering and glueing and pruning and felt satisfied by early evening that we could congratulate ourselves. To our eyes, the house is transformed. A stranger coming in would wonder how anyone could live this way. Notwithstanding (I love that word – so grown up!) Barry, happy, content, at peace with the world, began to assemble the things he needed. The handbooks – where were they? Of course, in one of his camera bags or maybe the large trunk-like box that contains other camera equipment. They were not there. For two hours we searched the house, upstairs, downstairs, dining room, conservatory, bathroom, bedroom, en suite, loft, study - back and forth we went, fruitlessly searching the same places over and over again. Barry's bonhomie began to dissipate. These were not, after all, the original handbooks – they had disappeared long since. These were the ones he had downloaded from the Internet and carefully assembled and put safely in his camera bag/box/trunk – only he hadn't! Eventually, he decided to download them again. He calmed down and Gus, who had been very disturbed all day by the unwonted activity, and even more so by the 'atmosphere' began to settle once more. All was well again.

Barry set up the tripod and camera and star tracking device and we had our very late supper. The camera was controlled by computer and we were going to stack the photos, taken every few minutes, to get an in-depth image. As we were looking at them and I was editing them, trying different processes, we heard rain falling, only it wasn't rain, it was the computer-controlled garden spray which had been moved and had decided to play its part as well and interfere with the photographic process.

Suddenly, the air was blue and Barry's face grew increasingly stony as he dismantled the dripping wet equipment. We dried it with towels and tissues but water continued to gather and drip from every tiny orifice. My hairdryer, which I use only occasionally, was brought into play and for the next three hours, it was used to blow hot air into every crevice. Gus was once more anxious and worried, though the others paid no attention and continued to snore. I made a pot of tea for Barry about 1:00 am and went wearily to bed with the dogs. He said he would come upstairs soon but eventually appeared about 3:00 am. We slept soundly, if briefly, and rose to a bright, sunlit morning.

With rest and sun came clear thinking. House insurance! We pay our house insurance premiums regularly and have claimed possibly twice in all the years we've lived here (Admittedly, one claim was for a rather nasty house fire but that was a long time ago before Bethan was born and she's over 25!) Barry found the documents and checked with the insurance company that we were covered. So, along with the sun has come a measure of peace of mind though I shall continue to worry quietly until everything is resolved.