August rushes by in Cyprus

Due to the surprising popularity of my 'photo clues' in a post a couple of weeks ago, I offer another guided tour of selected parts of our house, with a different set of clues to a considerably more pleasant event.

Let me take you first into our dining room where, in a biscuit tin which has set empty for some months, there are now some Bourbon biscuits... or Bourbon clones, anyway. No dairy products in the ingredients.


Moving into the kitchen, and a rare glimpse inside the cereal cabinet: on the right, my usual muesli. Next to it, two items that have not been in the house since April: almond milk, and a large box of Weetabix:


If I quickly open the fridge (not too long, since the weather is still very warm in Cyprus) you might notice another package of almond milk, some pineapple juice, and a partly-empty bottle of home-made lemonade:


On the other side of the kitchen, the cupboard with walnuts, almonds, sunflower seeds and so on has an extra addition: a jar of salted cashews:


Back to the dining room, and a clue that would confuse the issue for a lot of people: an almost complete set of Chalet School books by Elinor M Brent-Dyer nestling in our fiction shelves between the Binchys and the Boyds on one side, the Brontës and the Browns on the other:


Now into the living room, where, in front of the television, is a DVD with the last four episodes of the final season of 'Quantum Leap':


And the digital piano, which has lain quiet and uncluttered since April, now has various pieces of music on it, not to mention an empty glass:


Those who knows us well will, of course, realise that all this means that our younger son Tim is home, after completing his first year at Newman University in the UK. We have missed him enormously, and yet in some senses the time seems to have raced by.

Why all the extra items around the house?

Well, we don't usually bother with biscuits when Tim isn't here. There is generally an unopened packet or two in the cupboard, either given as a gift or bought on special offer. But we don't get around to opening them unless we have visitors. The same is true of pineapple juice. I usually have at least one carton in the cupboard, but we're more likely to open an orange or apple juice if we feel like packet juice. I mostly drink water anyway. And squeeze fresh juice every morning. As for salted cashews, they're very moreish and we all like them. But we really don't need the extra calories so I don't usually buy them.

Neither of us eats Weetabix or uses almond milk, but as Tim is dairy-free, that's his regular breakfast. And while I do make lemonade during the winter and spring, lemons are not in season now, so I hadn't made any for a couple of months. But last Friday I saw some quite nice looking lemons, imported from Argentina. They were rather more expensive than Cyprus lemons, and I don't usually buy fruit from so far away... but in Tim's honour, I did make one batch. About three and a half litres. Richard enjoys it too... but I continue to drink mostly water.

The music on the piano is self-explanatory. Tim is our pianist, and chose this digital piano about six months after we moved to this house. Yesterday afternoon he had several of his youth group friends over to try out music for the youth group variety night on Saturday evening. The empty glass was probably left by one of them... I found several glasses and an empty water jug on the table after they had left. Teenagers in Cyprus seem to drink a lot of water.

Quantum Leap? I used to love the series when it was on television, many years ago. When it was closed down, I stopped watching TV altogether. There wasn't anything else that interested me. So I was very pleased when I discovered that Quantum Leap was available on DVD. Over a few years, I bought or was given the five series that were broadcast. Before Tim went away, we watched one or two episodes most weeks as a family.

When he left, we had most of series four and all of series five left to watch. We did see most of them. But decided to leave the last three for Tim's return. We forgot all about them at Easter, but on Monday evening this week, we decided to watch one of them. Leaving the DVD out should - we hope - remind us to see the others too while he's here.

Oh, and the Chalet School books.

I've been reading that series since I was a teenager. I had about thirty of them mostly in paperback, which I had collected from charity shops in the UK. Two of my friends here (one aged 11, the other 70...) borrow them regularly. My mother had the whole series in the UK, with a fair number in hardback. When she moved to her current house, she asked if I would like them. But since there was no way of getting them here, they went temporarily to my sister's house, where they sat in a box in her guest room for a few years. And we kept forgetting about them.

Finally we arranged for my sister to take them to my mother's house, where Tim lives in the UK. I asked Tim if he would bring three or four of the earlier ones which I didn't have... and somehow he managed to fit about thirty of them in his case. Tim has also read the series many times, and - to my amazement - managed to remember which ones we had, and to bring all the others. Plus a couple in hardback which we only had in paperback.

I shall probably re-read them in the next few years, and I'm sure my two local friends will too.

As for Tim: he arrived - earlier than scheduled! - on Sunday evening. On Monday, he slept late, played 'Risk' in the afternoon with the children of some local friends. In the evening we watched the QL episode mentioned above. On Tuesday, he relaxed and read most of the day, and we went to play Settlers of Catan with local friends in the evening. Yesterday he went to visit the local inter-church holiday club for an hour or so in the morning, then worked on music, and had his friends over in the afternoon. Then while Richard and I went to the beach to meet the Cyprus home educators' group, Tim went to a leaders' meeting to plan for next week's youth group camp in Troodos.

So three days have raced past. Today we have nothing planned; Tim is reading and doing things on his computer:

A tale of three blenders

When we first came to Cyprus, we probably had a second-hand blender (or liquidiser. One word was originally British, the other American, but I've entirely forgotten which is which. We use the words interchangeably) from the Thrift Store. I really don't remember. Such details have vanished in the mists of time. Possibly we didn't have one at all.

I do remember, however, that we acquired a nice Moulinex liquidiser (or blender) at some point during 2003, or thereabouts. We didn't pay much for it. Perhaps we didn't pay anything for it. As far as I recall, it was on special offer at Orphanides supermarket, but whether it was free with so many bonus points, or on discount, or simply a special offer is another of those minor details which has vanished from my mind.

It was a good liquidiser. The boys used it to make fruity milk shakes in the summer, and I used it to make breadcrumbs. We thought about making soup, too, and blending that, although in our old rental house we didn't get around to that kind of cooking very often. It was a most uninspiring kitchen.

And while it was a good blender, it slightly worried me that the lid did not lock. I hoped nobody would be stupid enough to have fingers inside when it was working, but it was entirely possible to switch it on full power with the lid not on firmly enough, and have the contents fly everywhere. That didn't happen, thankfully. But it could have.

Then, early in 2004, after much contemplation, we acquired a Moulinex Ovatio duo 3 food processor. From the thrift store, inexpensively, in excellent condition. It came with a liquidizer (or blender) attachment, which sat above the motor. It was as powerful as the blender we already had, but safer because it only worked if the lid was locked in place.

That was a photo taken in the kitchen of our old rental house. The small amount of tile showing in the background might give a clue as to why the kitchen was so very uninspiring to work in. It was also taken on our very first digital camera, which wasn't very good resolution, which is why the photo is rather grainy.

But I digress.

In the interests of saving workspace, we packed away the first blender. It sat in the cupboard for about a year, and then was moved to the office. Someone staying there wanted to use a blender... and was very pleased with it. It moved from the office to the office guest flat a while later, and there it stayed...

..until, in (I think) 2006, the Ovatio 3 food processor breathed its last. The motor became noisier, and less powerful, possibly because we made bread dough in the food processor and it wasn't quite strong enough. Or maybe it was older than we thought when we first bought it. Whatever the reason, the Ovatio duo 3 was no more.

So, not expecting much, we went to the Thrift Store again. And there, to my amazement, was another Moulinex Ovatio duo food processor! It looked almost new (though it evidently wasn't). It was a bit smaller, but it had extra attachments, such as a fruit juicer. And the liquidizer (or blender) had an extra white attachment that sat on the same base as the main processor bowl. It was an Ovatio duo 2 rather than 3... but I didn't think that would matter. The price was good, so we bought it.


Possibly it was a mistake. The bowl was too small for bread dough, and it didn't work so well for pastry. Worst of all, the blender really wasn't powerful enough for anything much. On the rare occasions I made soup, it ended up with too many lumps.

But we didn't make soup very often, and it worked for milky fruit shakes... except that by then Daniel had left home, and Tim soon after discovered that dairy products made him go deaf, so he stopped making milk shakes.

We moved house in the summer of 2006. And the kitchen is so nice, both Tim and I felt inspired to do a lot more cooking. So, in the winter, when we didn't much like our lumpy soups, we had the brilliant idea of rescuing the Moulinex liquidiser from the office guest flat , where it hadn't been used for some months.

And, for the past two and a half years, we've used that blender a fair amount. In the winter, I make soup at least once a week and freeze several portions. In the summer, we make fruit smoothies with peaches or apricots, and soft fruit (frozen). And ice cubes.

Possibly I added too many ice cubes a couple of days ago. Maybe I added them too early. Or maybe the liquidiser had simply come to the end of its natural life. These days, six years old is pretty good for kitchen gadgets, or so it seems. Anyway, it started to make a loud graunching kind of noise, and felt as if it were not quite balanced. When I poured the smoothie into glasses, I noticed a piece of metal (fortunately still whole). And the inside of the liquidiser, after being washed, looked like this:


Note the absence of one of the metal pointy bits. It had broken off completely. It's clearly not mendable. I did wonder if it might work anyway - if the loud noise was due to the broken bit in the machine - but when I made yesterday's smoothies, there was still a horrible noise, and despite leaving it on for longer than usual, they weren't very smooth. They were more like lumpies. Still tasty, but not what we've come to expect.

We did think about going to Orphanides last night to see if they had any more special offers on blenders. But couldn't remember what time it closed. And I knew I wanted to go to Metro today anyway, to do a bit of regular shopping. Some very important items, such as Weetabix and almond milk, since Tim will be arriving back in Cyprus for a few weeks on Sunday evening.

Unfortunately the only blender in Metro was a 'super-power' one, at 80 euros. Ouch! We're not going to pay that much for a liquidiser. And then I remembered the other part of the food processor. Did I even have all the parts?

The food processor part was on the work surface - I do use that occasionally. The container part of the liquidiser was in a cupboard. And the white part which it perches on was in another cupboard... and it all went together to make a working blender:



I even had the lid, although it's not shown in the picture.

So I made our smoothies. It worked without making much noise.. but the result wasn't much different from yesterday's attempt. Roughies rather than smoothies. Too many bits. It will do for a few days, but we have to get to Orphanides early next week to try to find something better. Or one of the electrical shops. Or possibly even the Thirft shop.

We can't go tomorrow, however, since tomorrow is a one of the big religious public holidays in Cyprus. I'm glad I remembered that, as we were thinking of doing our shopping at Metro tomorrow rather than today... but thankfully remembered in time.

Plumbers on our roof

When we moved to our house, a little over three years ago, we noticed that there was a very slow d-r-i-p.... d-r-i-p.... onto the balcony outside our bedroom. It didn't seem like a big deal. Perhaps some pipe, we thought, with a very slow leak. Or just an interesting feature of our new home.

As the months went by, it seemed that the drip got faster. It made little puddles on the balcony during the winter, although they usually evaporated during the day.

And then it started to become worse. It made sufficient of a puddle that the overflow pipe from the balcony started dripping water down onto the paving below. I was convinced one of our water tanks was leaking. Richard went up and looked two or three times, with various people who understand water tanks and plumbing better than he did. They agreed that something was leaking, and that we would probably need a new water tank.

A year ago, when we were in the UK, our house-sitter placed an empty dustbin underneath the overflow from the balcony. It was getting so bad that, even in the middle of a Cyprus summer (when temperatures in the shade are at least 32C) it was still dripping constantly through the overflow and down to the ground.

Then I realised that when we had guests staying in the downstairs flat, the dripping was not so excessive. Indeed, if we had people who were using the washing machine, and having a lot of showers, the only time the drip reached the dustbin was when the mains water was on (every other day) filling the tank up as fast as it was used. Evidently it was the guest flat tank that was leaking.

Every so often, we looked at each other, and said we must do something about it. But it wasn't until a couple of months ago, when the drip became a constant flow of water, and one of our neighbours commented, that Richard actually got in touch with a plumber - someone he had used at the office.

He came and looked. Yes, we needed a new water tank. But the design of the old one wasn't made any more, so it would have to be ordered. And they'd have to do some welding, since the design of the old metalwork wouldn't fit the new tank, and was a bad design anyway, contributing to the hole that had developed, half-way up the guest flat tank.

Richard asked about the pump downstairs, too, which had a slow leak. And also asked whether it would be possible to have a switch so that the solar panels could be used to heat only our hot water when we don't have guests staying in the winter. And the plumber noticed a problem with our compression tank.

Evidently it was going to be an expensive job... or series of jobs, as there were so many things to do. But it had to be done, since our water bills for the guest flat were increasing rapidly, and we're not supposed to waste water. We could hardly criticise our neighbours for hosing their cars and patios if we were losing half a tank of water every other day from a leaky tank.

So the plumbers came, and went, and came again... they know their way through our bedroom to the balcony, and gradually the various jobs were done. For the first ten days, they arranged for our water tank to feed both parts of the house, while the guest tank was mostly emptied. That stopped the leaking, but also meant that we ran out of water a couple of times, when we had guests staying. Not a huge deal as it ran out on days when the mains was on, slowly filling it up again. But mildly annoying.

Then they came with a new tank, which they got on the roof and attached. They fixed the compression tank. A welder made the necessary constructions. I just stayed in my study while all this went on around me, and the cats joined me. Some days, water poured away, totally wasted. Our bills are not going to be lower next time, although we hope they might be eventually. And with the solar panels giving us more heat in the winter (when nobody is staying downstairs) we shouldn't need so much electricity to heat water for showers.

Here's the setup, with the new water tank for the guest flat:

 

Today they came again to fix another minor leak they discovered, and to do something else to the pump. There's still one minor thing to do, apparently, but they need another small part... and in the middle of August, most plumbing suppliers (along with many businesses, and non-food shops) are closed for a couple of weeks.

But we no longer have continual dripping. The balcony is no longer damp. And the water pressure in our upstairs bathroom is incredible!

A non-typical Saturday on a hot Cyprus day...

Yesterday was what might be called an interesting day. One that I hope will not be repeated any time soon. I didn't get to bed until about 11.45pm, which is long past my usual bedtime. When I got up this morning, the house was not as tidy as I would have liked it to be...

Here are some clues to what happened yesterday:


Yes, that's our rather rickety old card table. Our mah-jong set is there, near the back. On top is a plastic box, supposedly waterproof. There's a roll of kitchen towel, too. And several other apparently random bits and pieces. To see a little closer:


Yes, that's the outer protective casing of a phone. A multi-tool thing. Some sunblock lip gel. Some matches in a soggy box.


.. and here is an old tea-towel, with various bits of metal and some mini drill bits.

Going into the kitchen, you would see this:


Yes, that's the inner part of a phone, standing on end. Another part of the phone (I think...) in a glass of water.

Then there's a radio, sitting in one of my mixing bowls:


.. while on the draining board sits an empty slow-cooker (crockpot) inside pot:


Back to the living room, there's a mysterious looking black plastic rolled up item on the sofa, with a ruler behind it, and a small white towel draped neatly over the arm:


On the coffee table, are three children's books, a long piece of lego, and a toy from McDonalds left behind by one of our visitors:


In my study, there were several lego models lying around the floor, but I tidied those away before I thought of taking photos, and although I considered getting them out again, I decided it wasn't really worth the effort.

Oh, and if you happen to look outside our kitchen, to the utility balcony, you would see, in addition to regular items such as a double sheet, an empty picnic cool-bag, and - perhaps most mysterious of all - a very small pair of pink panties:


I'm tempted to stop right there, and see if anyone can guess what happened yesterday.

But I won't.

Short story: Richard took three people sailing. I spent part of the morning preparing an evening meal for ten, including the four who were sailing. Five of the other people expected to dinner spent the afternoon with me. After the meal, when most of our guests had gone home, four of us played a few games of mah-jong (hence the late night).

That explains the crockpot, the card table and the mah-jong. And, given that four of the people who spent the afternoon with me were children, it also explains the lego and the children's books.

Those were the expected parts of the day.

It's said, sometimes, that accidents come in threes.

About 5pm, our youngest guest (aged 11 months) managed to spill a half-empty glass of water on the floor. A minor irritation at most.

In fact, we barely noticed the spilt water, because a couple of minutes earlier, her just-four-year-old sister had an accident of the type that small children occasionally do (though it's very rare for this particular little girl). That resulted in a different kind of liquid on the study floor, where she was just going out in an attempt - perhaps - to get to the loo. The children had just watched 'Pollyanna' on DVD, so her mother and I reminded ourselves that there was much to be thankful for: we were glad, for instance, that she was not sitting on the sofa at the time, and that we don't have carpets.

Thus the towel (since a shower was required) and the little pink panties on the line. I managed to find a very old pair of one of my son's underpants which, with the aid of a safety pin, sufficed for a few hours.

As the children's mother was mopping up the mess, the phone rang. It was Richard, letting me know that they were going to be later than expected... because his boat had capsized. For the first time ever. It was quite windy yesterday, but no worse than the week before. He didn't want to tell me about it on the phone... but assured me that everyone was fine, and had been rescued.

And rather than give the details here, anyone who wants to know exactly what happened can read Richard's official Mayday report, which he posted on his Wayfarer blog.

In a nutshell: the 10-year-old child he took with him was brilliant. He remembered all his training, didn't panic, and behaved impeccably. His father was fine, but tired, and having problems with his blood sugar. And the father's friend was - well, let's just say he was not fine. He didn't listen to instructions, he kept asking where he was supposed to go when told to change sides of the boat (as if there are a lot of places one CAN go in a smallish boat with four people on it!) and when the boat started to tip, he not only hadn't moved when he was supposed to, but didn't think to throw himself to the other side to stop it going over.

Everyone was rescued pretty quickly. The life-jackets (technically buoyancy aids) did their job, the water in Cyprus in August is warm enough that nobody was going to suffer hypothermia, and the masthead buoyancy thing (that black plastic object, which is explained on Richard's blog post) pushed the boat to horizontal rather than totally upside down in the water.

The boat was recovered, as were the items tied down in it including the blue cool-box which had contained Richard's lunch, and the yellow 'dry box' which unfortunately was not as dry as it should have been. Possibly the lid was not on firmly enough. Whatever the reason, Richard's phone has clearly suffered and he has no idea if it will live again. He's currently using my phone with his sim card (which is still working).

Unfortunately, the camera Richard takes with him, and its waterproof case, had not been tied to the boat because of a previous incident earlier in the day. And the two adults had, for some reason, taken wallets with them but had not put them in the dry box, so they too are missing, along with their car keys. And shoes, which they had taken off.

There is some damage to the boat, which we hope is minor, and apparently some items have been salvaged by both the Larnaka and Dhekelia sailing clubs. So Richard and one of his regular sailing friends have gone out to see what they can find, and discover exactly what damage the boat has sustained.

The most important thing is that everyone is unhurt.

But I hope to return to my usual unexciting Saturdays in future!