Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Building a bridge, Cyprus style...

It was around October 10th when, as I wrote in my previous post, the little bridge near the aqueduct was closed for repair.  This is how it looked, at the end of that post, on October 22nd:

Note the not entirely tasteful alternating of brown and blue upright posts, and the mess of the previous boards and railings scattered around the side.

By the end of October, little had changed, as far as we could tell, other than some of the blue having been painted over in brown, which was something of a relief:

However, work then resumed. The mess of old wood was taken away, perhaps to be burned on a bonfire (yes, some people in Cyprus, bizarrely, celebrate the very British November 5th Bonfire Night).

Earlier this week, the bridge appeared to be finished. It looks very smart. All the new strong metal railings are brown, all the boards are laid to walk on, and there's even a wider section at each end, demonstrating that this is where people are to walk.

Except that there's still a warning sign telling us NOT to walk on it.

We didn't obey the notice this time. Other people were evidently walking across, as could be seen from footprints in the dew, and (more importantly, from my point of view) it looked entirely safe.

So for the first time in weeks we walked the last few metres to the aqueduct before turning back again. The sun was ahead of us so it's harder to see the other end of the newly renovated bridge in the photo, but this is how it looked:

No warning notice this end, and just one bollard that could, theoretically, be intended to deny access.

It's only taken a month...

Sunday, October 25, 2015

Rain and Bridge Repairs...

Shortly after my last post, Sheila and I were on our usual four kilometre walk to the aqueduct and back, only to find that we couldn't actually get to the aqueduct:

Well, we could perhaps have ducked under the tape and crossed the bridge (which had been getting more and more broken and rickety) but not being Cypriots we tend to follow what notices tell us (usually, anyway...).  So we went a little way along where the arrow sent us, but it just ended up at the main road:

So we walked back, and instead looked at the lake, which was looking quite a bit fuller after the first real rain of the year:

Unfortunately, although October usually signals the start of Autumn, the weather remained hot, and the sky mostly cloudless. It was even a bit humid sometimes. But then, a few days ago, I saw plenty of clouds in the sky, so took my camera with me in the hope of seeing a pretty sunrise.

I thought this one was very attractive, although a photo is a poor imitation:

The bridge was still out of action, and evidently some repair work had been started. The old wood was removed, although not very far, and new metal railings were in place.

They seem to have been painted alternately brown and light blue, which looks decidedly weird, but perhaps it's a bit of creative undercoat. The planks being put down to walk on look stronger than the old ones, too:

On Thursday evening, there was quite a thunderstorm and heavy rain. Friday was quite muggy, and then on Saturday there was a lot of rain. There was more this morning, and more predicted.

It's odd how often the last week of October is rainy here in Cyprus. It's usually the October half-term break in the UK, and families have often been disappointed that it's as wet here as it is back home, the only difference being that it's rather warmer in Cyprus. Temperatures are still 26-28C during the daytime, so although I wore long trousers today, for the first time since June, I still wore sandals, and nothing thicker than a tee shirt.

Thursday, October 08, 2015

Shrubs and Trees along the Salt Lake trail

Although it wasn't fully light by the time I left the house on Tuesday morning for my walk with Sheila, I could see that there were plenty of clouds. So, thinking we might see an attractive sunrise, I grabbed my camera. Sheila suggested that rather than walk in the aqueduct direction, as we usually do, we might try the other way.

It was a good opportunity to see that there really was, still, a fair amount of water in the biggest of the Larnaka Salt Lakes, despite the last few months being hot and free of rain:

lack of rain in the Salt Lake after a long summer in Cyprus

We walked as far as the end of that part of the trail, just under two kilometres from where we start:

Airport Road end of the Salt Lake trail, showing lack of water

Then Sheila, who does both directions when I'm not with her, mentioned that some new wooden signs had appeared in recent weeks. They are supposed to help people identify some of the plants on the trail, but she felt that they were rather confusing in some respects.

Plant with Latin and Greek names but no English.

This one, for instance, gives the Latin as 'halocnemum strobilaceum' and the Greek as 'Αλμυριδι' (Almyridi) but, unlike the other signs, there's no English equivalent. I checked online before writing this, and, indeed, there doesn't seem to be any English word for this particular species, which is considered to be unique to the Mediterranean and Middle Eastern regions.

However, only a few metres away, is this sign:

Plant on the Salt Lake trail, Suaeda vera (shrubby sea bite)

This is also labelled as Αλμυριδι' in Greek, but although the plant looks much the same, the Latin is completely different: 'Suaeda vera', with the English translation below, 'Shrubby Sea-Bite'.  Checking online, this does indeed appear to be the English name for this plant, which mainly appears in coastal regions.

However it's a bit odd that the Greek word is the same for both.

Walking back along the trail, we came across this:

Desert Tamarisk plant growing near the Salt Lake in Larnaca

'Tamarix tetragyna', according to the Latin, and 'Desert Tamarisk' in English. My Latin, while rather rusty, suggested that it's labelled as a 'four women tamarisk' which turns out to be fairly close to the reason for its name: apparently it's a tamarisk with four stamens. It should be quite pretty when it blooms, although I don't recall it from previous years.

The Greek, however, is a little mystifying, saying 'Μερικος' (Merikos) which means 'partial' or 'incomplete'.

The next sign is confusing for a different reason. The Latin states, 'Acacia saligna', and the Greek 'Ακακια' which, transliterated, is simply 'Acacia'.

The English, however, describes it as 'Wattle'. Strange, but I gather is correct as the English name.

Called 'Wattle' in English, this grows by the Salt Lake

This is the same plant from a bit further away. According to Wikipedia, it should have bright yellow blooms in the spring or summer:

Showing the Wattle plant in Cyprus

Next we came to a tree that's more unambigously labelled:  'Eucalyptus gomphocephala' according to the Latin. 'Ευκαλυπτος' in the Greek, which is, again, an almost exact transliteration of 'Eucalyptus', other than having the more typically Greek -os ending.

We weren't quite sure why the English just labels it as 'Eucalypt' since that's a more general name for a lot of similar trees, but at least it's similar.

It occurred to us that the word 'eucalyptus' must be Greek in its origin. The first part, 'eu' is commonly used to mean 'good' or 'well'.  Further research later on revealed that the word 'eucalyptus' means 'well-covered', referring to the way that the unopened flowers are, according to the site I found, protected by a kind of cap covering.

Sign showing a eucalyptus tree in Larnaca, along the Salt Lake trail

We wondered what the second part of the Latin name meant, since it's clearly made up of two Greek words rather than being true Latin. (Am I beginning to sound like a Cypriot here?) The last part, 'cephala' is from the Greek word for 'head'. I had to look up the first part: 'gompho' means a peg, or possibly the joint of a body. I was mildly amused at the thought of a peg-head eucalyptus...but perhaps it means that it has a jointed head:

Eucalyptus means peg-head or branched head, shown in this photo

It's a tall tree, so I couldn't get it all in one shot. Here's the top part against the sky. The head part does indeed branch out into different 'joints':

Branches of eucalyptus tree against the blue sky

Then we came to another tree labelled as a eucalyptos in Greek, a eucalypt in English and 'eucalyptus camaldulensis' in Latin. I couldn't work out what the second word meant, either in Latin or Greek, but eventually discovered that it was named for the Camaldoli monastery near Naples, where it was first described.

Another eucalyptus tree, this one divided at the base

This eucalyptus appears to be jointed right from the base:

The lower part of the eucalyptus tree, branching from the base

And here's what it's like at the top:

Top [part of the eucalyptus tree against the pale blue sky

As is clear from the above, neither Sheila nor I are knowledgeable or particularly interested in plants... but we are both fascinated by language and word origins. 

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Pictures, from Scotland to Cyprus, via Birmingham and Derbyshire...

My mother had several pictures hanging in her house in the UK, but there were a set of three prints which she was particularly fond of. As far as I remember, they had previously belonged to her parents who lived in Scotland.

They hung over the fireplace in my mother's living room in her house in Birmingham for some years. I found this photo which I've cropped to show one of them, although the glass was reflective and the image isn't very clear.

Watercolour print of Sisley painting, in my mother's house in Birmingham

When my mother died, at the end of May 2013, our son Tim, who had lived with her for five years, said that he would very much like these three prints. However we had no easy way of getting them to Cyprus. So one of my brothers took them to his home in Derbyshire, and put the pictures away in a cupboard in a guest room.

In the Summer of 2014, I spent a couple of days with my brother and his wife. I wasn't certain that I could remember which pictures Tim wanted. We found several that were from my mother's house, and I took photos. The ones Tim was keen on seemed a bit faded to me, although that hadn't been obvious when they were on the wall. The frames were quite strong, but there was some staining on the white mounts around the pictures. They were quite large, and of course the glass posed a problem. I had no idea how we could ship them to Cyprus.

Apparently the original artist was one of the early French impressionists, Alfred Sisley. One of the pictures shows a tree-lined path:

watercolour painting of tree-lined path, print of painting by Alfred Sisley

One of them shows this view of a canal:

Bleak looking canal path, watercolour painting by Sisley

And this one, the one shown at the top of this post, shows a view of a house through some foliage:

water colour of a house, half hidden by shrubbery

Tim confirmed that these were, indeed, the pictures that he wanted. However, he felt no attachment to the frames or mounts, and agreed that it would not be a good idea to ship them with the glass. There was nothing I could do at the time, anyway, so we put them back in the cupboard.

Then Richard and I were in the UK again at the end of February, and spent a few hours at my brother's house while travelling North. Richard was planning to send a shipment back to Cyprus, so we got the pictures out again, and he carefully extracted them from their frames and removed the mounts. This was not a simple process, and took considerably longer than he expected; in one of them we found an old newspaper which was dated, if I recall correctly, from the late 1920s. Evidently the frames had lasted nearly 90 years, so it wasn't surprising they were looking rather tired.

Richard packed the pictures with strong cardboard and, several weeks later they arrived safely in Cyprus. We took them to Tim's flat, and he put them behind a chair, still in the cardboard... and there they remained for another six months. Then I suggested that we might get them professionally framed as our birthday present to Tim, and he thought that was a good idea.

So we took them to a local art gallery that has a framing service, and chose white frames (at Tim's request). The woman who dealt with us showed us several options, and we realised that an outer card mount improved the appearance although we didn't choose one anywhere near as big as the previous mount. We also opted for non-reflective glass.

Tim was pleased with the result on his birthday, and today we took them to his flat so they could be hung in place. He has a long wall in his living room where they look great:

water colours on the wall, in new frames in Cyprus

The effect is, unsurprisingly, more modern than the previous style of frames, and goes nicely with Tim's white furnishings.

I'm glad that these pictures are, once more, on display. And having discovered images of a couple of the originals online, I think I like the blue faded effect better. 

Monday, September 14, 2015

Cyprus sandstorm

Despite the shortening days and cooler nights, it remains hot in September. Last Monday, I'd done my usual quick weekly dusting and mopping of the main floor of our house first thing; by mid-morning it was as hot and humid as it had been for most of the summer.

By mid-afternoon, I noticed that the sky had become overcast. Was it going to rain? I felt quite hopeful for half an hour or so, before realising that the sky wasn't cloudy, but dusty. It's not unusual to have sandstorms in Cyprus; perhaps once a year we see a red sky with sand from the Sahara, which dissipates quickly, but leaves red dust everywhere.

However, the sky looked more yellow than red, and a quick Internet search revealed that this sand was from Syria. We assumed that it would be gone by the following morning.

On Tuesday Sheila and I went out to walk, but it felt much warmer than usual for the time of day, as well as very close and generally unpleasant. There was dust in the air, and visibility was poor. So we only did half our usual walk, and I didn't feel at all invigorated.

The dust then got worse. At nine o'clock, Sheila took this photograph, showing the sun as a pale white disc, trying to poke through the immense dust in the atmosphere:

Showing the sepia toned appearance of Cyprus during the sandstorm

Everywhere looked as if it was sepia-toned. We closed windows, used air conditioning to filter the air as well as to get cool. The online newspapers recommended that people stay indoors. Even the international media began reporting on this massive amount of sand in the atmosphere; apparently it was also covering Lebanon, Jordan and Israel.  People with asthma were told to stay indoors, and we heard reports of people being taken to hospital with breathing difficulties.

By Wednesday, it was a little better, but not much. State-run schools were supposed to start after the lengthy Summer break, but the government kept them closed. By Thursday it was better still; Sheila and I managed our usual walk first thing. Although the Salt Lake trail looked very dusty, it was easier to breathe near all the plants.

On Friday the secondary schools opened, and we heard that the dust levels were down to almost acceptable levels. By Saturday we were seeing blue skies again. Even people who have lived in Cyprus for thirty years or more said that they have never been such a major and long-lasting sandstorm.

I felt very sorry for the tourists who had come out for a week of relaxation and sunshine, only to be told they had to stay indoors, with no sun to be seen.

Neighbours had hosed down their patios and cars several times during the week; I did water our plants, and did a quick rinse of the patio and outside stairs once, but that was just to stop more sand being trodden indoors.

Keeping the windows closed didn't stop a heavy layer of dust descending just about everywhere; I made finger-marks deliberately to show how bad it was. And everything had been dusted just last Monday...

dust on equipment after the Cyprus sandstorm

This morning, it took me nearly an hour and a half to dust, vacuum and mop... three times as long as it usually does!

I cleaned the kitchen appliances and counter-tops several times during the week, and the dining table. However, on a couple of mornings I saw that, although the cats are very good about not going on the table during the daytime, they aren't so good at night...

Paw prints from our naughty kittens, evidence that they were on the table

Whoever would have guessed....?

Alexander the Great curled up with Joan of Arc, the picture of innocence

Monday, September 07, 2015

September, and another walk by the Salt Lake

Although we planned to go to the beach more often during July and August, we didn't manage it. Just once a week with our friends. On the last Friday of August, the moon was full and the temperature wasn't too high by the end of the evening. Photos of the moon are always disappointing but here's one attempt:

In fact we did go to the beach one more time, on the first Friday of September. The daytime isn't any cooler during September, at least not in the first couple of weeks; but the days are shorter, the humidity lower and the night temperatures drop down to 22-24C.

So I agreed to meet my friend Sheila for an early morning walk by the Salt Lake trail on September 1st, as it was a Tuesday. I woke shortly before 6.00am and we had our usual text message conversation. As I stepped out of the house, it was early dawn, and I was pleased that it felt pleasantly cool.

The sky was slightly pink as we approached the trail, and I was surprised at how green it was. There was a little rain (maybe five minutes) at the end of July, but other than that it's been dry, as usual, for at least two months, and there was very little rain during June.

The nearest part of the Salt Lake has dried up; it might look as if there's water in it, but the white is from the crust of salt that remains after the water has evaporated:

We've seen a few sunsets in clear skies, when at the beach during the Summer, but this was the first sunrise I had seen for a while:

Even the weeds were still growing, although the next picture is a bit dark. It wasn't just the bigger trees that were green:

There was a stark reminder of the fire that devastated quite a big area back in May:

And then, as we walked back from the aqueduct, we saw that there is still some water at the other end of the Salt Lake; you can see the reflections in the distance:

So I walked about five kilometres (including going to and from the trail) after a summer with very little exercise. I felt very unfit; we walked more slowly than usual, and my legs ached by the time I was home. They were even worse the following day!

However, I've walked a couple more times since then, and each time it's easier. I do enjoy the early morning walks, and saying 'kalimera' to various people who walk along the same paths at the same time each day... and am thankful that it's now cool enough to do this again.

We're supposed to be having a heatwave this week, so I hope it won't be too hot to walk. As I write, the sky is grey outside, but it's dust rather than cloud. It will probably be another few weeks before we get any rain.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Sleepover, revisited

Just under a year ago, we had three young friends to stay for 27 hours. Their older siblings were away at camp, and their parents enjoyed some time to themselves, for once. It was tiring, but - overall - quite fun, and although we hadn't really talked about repeating the experience, we decided to do so again this year.

The youth group camp started Tuesday, so we agreed that the three younger children could come Wednesday morning, and stay until after lunch on Thursday. So, first thing Wednesday I did my usual Wednesday housework (changing our sheets, putting sheets/towels to wash, cleaning upstairs...) and also cleaned out the air conditioner in our second bedroom, which we hadn't, so far, done this year. It was very dirty indeed!

Then I put some yogurt on to make, and boiled some eggs, and thawed some cheese, and cut up some vegetables, and put bread ingredients in the breadmaker.

By ten o'clock I was showered and prepared for the onslaught arrival of our friends, only to receive a text saying they would be a bit late. So I decided to pre-empt the likely requests of the children, and found a few websites with printable paper dolls to colour and cut. They have made lots of them before, only to end up losing them. They're no longer allowed to make them at their house, so I decided to print three of each of several kinds, and allocate each girl an envelope so they could keep them here, in a cupboard, and play with them when they're at our house.

By 11.00 they had taken their pillows and luggage upstairs, and were thrilled by the paper dolls to colour.

They kept on thanking me, which was nice.  Elisabeth (5) needed a bit of help cutting the first ones out, as she told me she would probably cut the tabs off the clothes by mistake.  But Helen (nearly 7) was fine, although she said she didn't like cutting as much as she likes colouring:

I thought the activity might last half an hour or so before they got bored. However, I hoped they would keep coming back to them every so often. I underestimated them... Helen and Katie kept going almost all day.

Katie, who is ten, asked if she could update her blog in the afternoon. She is ten now, and started it recently under her mother's supervision.  I was impressed at how fast she types; she doesn't touch-type yet, but is far more competent than she was even a few months ago.

Even more impressively, she figured out how to use my webcam to take a photo to put in her blog post. I had no idea my webcam could be used for taking photos...

Elisabeth was the first to get bored of colouring; she also didn't take as much care as her sisters, so finished several of the dolls and their clothes much more quickly. Then she told me she could now read and was going to read the book 'Titch' to me.

We didn't get very far, because she was annoyed at the spelling of the name 'Pete', Titch's brother. She didn't think there should be an 'e' at the end. She explained patiently that the last sound is 'ttttttt' so the final letter ought to be a 't'. I pointed out that if it was just spelled 'p-e-t' then it would make the word 'pet'. She nodded, but felt that the second e should be before the t, not after it.  She has a point...

When she then found that the word 'bike' also ends with 'e' she gave up in disgust.

Helen, meanwhile, who had been colouring a doll version of Lucy (from the Narnia series) said she thought it very funny that Lucy's name was spelled 'Lucky'. I said that the word 'lucky' had a 'k' in it too, and then we had a discussion about when the letter 'c' makes the 's' sound.

So that was their phonics for the day...

Elisabeth got out a bag of paper coasters and cookies and other items of food that she has made over many weeks, when she's here with her mother on Tuesday mornings. None of us really wanted to play one of her long-winded cookie games, so she coerced the large white doll to play.

She had to put some thought into what to feed the doll; I think she allowed him (or perhaps her... the doll is of unspecified gender) some bread in the end. She told me, with a little shake of her head, that she couldn't allow him to have any chocolate because he always gets himself in such a mess when he eats chocolate.

Only those who have seen Elisabeth eating chocolate (or, worse, chocolate cake) can appreciate the wonderful irony of this statement.

Helen was still patiently colouring in her paper dolls' clothes...

Finally they all decided to put the colouring aside for a while and play a game. Ligretto is their current favourite, though I gather Elisabeth only learned how to play it a couple of days ago. It's a game I enjoy, although I'm not very good at it; when playing with experts I usually manage to get two or three cards down by the time someone else has finished. However, these three were at around my level and I even went out first a couple of times.

At lunch we had eaten bread with cheese, and eggs, and chopped up carrots/cucumbers/peppers, and coleslaw, and hummus, and one or two other random things from the fridge. That was straightforward.

However I wasn't entirely sure what to give the girls for their evening meal. I haven't done any cooking, other than on Sundays, for over a month now. We've been eating salads in the evenings, with some form of protein, and no extra starches. But I didn't think that would go down well. Richard spent the afternoon sailing with some friends and had taken some halloumi and pittas to cook on the boat so he wasn't in the equation.

I didn't want to turn the oven on, and haven't used the slow cooker since early July. But we had some sausages in the freezer, so I asked if the girls would like those. They said that would be a great idea. I thought we could have them in pittas, with salad, but then discovered Richard had taken all the pittas from our freezer. One of the girls said she liked sausages with 'noodles' so I cooked some spaghetti, and also refried some roast potatoes that were in the freezer. I knew they wouldn't want cooked vegetables, so out came the chopped ones from lunch, and the coleslaw.

I asked if any of them liked fried onions; they all said they didn't, but were very gracious and said they didn't mind at all if I cooked some for myself. I didn't take advantage of their offer; with potatoes, spaghetti, sausages and a little tomato sauce (also from the freezer) on the hob, I didn't have room for anything else anyway.

The girls were very pleased with the sausages, and even more so with the tomato ketchup I produced. With the heat, I haven't even made ketchup since June; we bought some Heinz ketchup on offer in the supermarket a few weeks ago. One of them asked me if it was very expensive, apparently considering ketchup to be a luxury. I assured her it was very reasonable, and cheaper than mayonnaise.

They were also quite excited by the fried potatoes, which they said they've only ever eaten at the house church. There weren't very many, but that was fine; they went on to eat a bit of spaghetti too, mixed with ketchup, but were more eager to eat the sausages.

I'd made some banana bread on Sunday, which I had kept in the freezer until the morning. So we each had a slice of that. I thought it was rather tasteless; I'd missed out both raisins and walnuts, knowing the girls aren't keen on either, but they declared it 'delicious'.

By the time we finished eating it was after seven o'clock, and the two younger girls said they needed to go to bed soon. Elisabeth asked if she could have a shower, so I found her a towel, and showed her how to work the shower, which is in our bath.

After about ten minutes the shower was still on so I popped my head around the bathroom door to see how she was doing, only to find her sitting down in the bath, with a scrubbing brush and the Cif cream cleanser. I thought perhaps she was cleaning the bath, and was about to thank her, when she showed me that she was scrubbing her feet! They looked extremely clean, but I was a bit worried that she might be scrubbing away a layer of skin; it's quite powerful stuff. I rinsed it very thoroughly and she seemed to be fine.

She said she had thought it was shampoo, which slightly puzzled me as shampoo is not normally used for cleaning feet although it's probably better for them than Cif. It was only when mentioning this to her parents a day later that I learned that she refers to shower gel as shampoo.

Then it was time to sort out the bedroom. We opened up the sofa bed, the one that used to be in my study until we moved furniture around last December. The girls had brought their own pillows, and also some teddies:

Elisabeth's mattress had come separately, and was set up next to the sofa bed.

Despite their eagerness to go to bed, neither Helen nor Elisabeth seemed particularly tired. I read to them until nearly eight o'clock, having turned on the newly cleaned air conditioner (it was VERY humid last night) and then they said they would go to sleep listening to a repeated 'rock a bye baby' tune - if that's the word - on a baby's cot toy which they had brought.

Katie was reading - as she had been, off and on, all day - until nine o'clock, at which point Richard said she should go to bed, and she complied cheerfully. Just as well, since I was absolutely shattered by that point and had already gone to lie down. It wasn't that any of the girls had been any trouble at all; they were mostly peaceable, right through the day, with only a handful of squabbles. I refused to get involved; the best parenting technique I ever learned, when my sons were small, is to listen giving good eye contact and an expression of sympathy to any amount of tattling or argument addressed to me, then to acknowledge that the situation was frustrating, or annoying, or upsetting, or whatever is most appropriate. And then let them work out what to do themselves.

We heard some talking but they stayed in their room and there was no major noise... so, presumably, they fell asleep eventually.

I must have been asleep before 10.00pm, and woke about 5.45am, feeling the humidity already. We only run air conditioners for an hour or so when going to sleep, and usually that's not a problem. I knew I wouldn't get back to sleep, so I got up, only to discover that Katie and Helen were already awake, and had been trying to get into my study to find some of their paper dolls. They had, very thoughtfully, kept quiet and hadn't tried to wake us up, so I let them in, and they took the colouring things back to their room.

I made my coffee, and turned on the ceiling fan, and opened the study door in the hope of at least a few minutes of cooler air, and settled in my beanbag to read.

I had perhaps five minutes of peace before Katie came down to read too. Shortly followed by her sisters. So much for time to myself.

When I went to get showered and dressed, they played some fairly peaceable Ligretto again:

I don't usually have breakfast until I've been up for a couple of hours, but the girls were starting to get a bit irritable and said they were hungry. I asked what they'd like for breakfast; they muttered that they like 'leftovers' like noodles and cheese, but I said we tended to eat leftovers at lunchtime, so in the end they said they'd like toast and butter. They didn't want any yogurt. Katie did say she would be happy to cook pancakes but I vetoed that one, not really wanting to heat the kitchen up at that hour.

I thawed some bread slices, and made orange juice, and produced a banana each and they had their toast. By which time it was about eight o'clock. And I was feeling tired already.

Someone proposed a game of Uno, so we had a couple of rounds:

But Elisabeth was clearly tired; she can't have had more than eight hours of sleep at most, which isn't many for a five-year-old. She always gets black bags under her eyes when she's tired; I've often seen them on her in the evenings, but they were there even at that time in the morning.

So the game deteriorated, and was then put away. It was getting too hot and sticky, anyway, so we decided to return to my study, and put the air conditioning on so that we could put the computer on and Katie could write another blog post.

Elisabeth then decided she would play with her various paper dolls - six of them in all:

Helen wanted to play Misfits but nobody else was keen, so she played with them on her own, for at least thirty seconds, before Elisabeth joined her:

But tempers were getting frayed. Elisabeth started being a bit silly; when she's over-tired she becomes hyper, and seems to lose her usually excellent grasp of reason. Helen seems unable to do anything without humming; she does so quietly and tunefully, and in itself it's not a problem, but Elisabeth kept joining in, and the volume increased as the tunefulness decreased... and since I was feeling tired and a little headachey, my tolerance was low.

At one point they were all looking bored, and pushing each other around, and I said they probably needed to run around outside - something that's not possible here - and maybe they should go home. I even had a text message conversation with their mother, who would have come to collect them, but Katie wanted to read a book, and then look through all our DVDs, and Helen wanted to do some colouring.. and Elisabeth even went to take a nap.

My study was starting to look more like a bombsite, although on the whole they had been good about clearing up one activity before embarking on another...

Elisabeth's nap lasted about ten minutes. Then Katie offered to make some more paper doll's clothes for her, and she watched, no longer being silly and hyper, but chewing her fingers and even yawning. Helen was tired too, but expressed that by sprawling on the sofa, and being more sensitive than usual, and refusing to pick anything up, and also yawning a lot.

But they kept insisting that they did not want to go home until after lunch. I didn't know what was best; I didn't want to turn it into a battle, or have them feel it was 'punishment' to send them home, but I wasn't sure how much longer I could cope - and the two younger ones were SO tired.

I also hadn't realised that they no longer play with Lego - so they informed me. Lego used to occupy them for hours when they came here. But not this time.

Helen decided to do some paper shredding for me, something they all seem to enjoy:

Then Elisabeth asked me to read to her, and Helen soon joined her. I think I read three books in all.

Katie read several books to herself, although I don't seem to have taken any photos of her doing so.

By this stage it was 12.20 and Elisabeth was looking so tired that she could barely stand up. She said she was hungry, so I suggested we have lunch a bit earlier than usual, and then they could go home at 1.00 rather than an hour or two later, as we'd originally planned. They all agreed to this and were pleased to find that Richard had brought back some leftover halloumi and chicken drumsticks from the meal on the boat last night.

So it was only 26 hours this time, an hour less than last year. I expect we'll repeat this next year, but that's a long way off... I have plenty of time to recover!