Random ramblings from the first half of October

After my 9k walk by the Salt Lake a couple of weeks ago, I was shattered. My legs ached the following day and I wondered if it had been a crazy idea. However, a friend on Facebook commented that if I repeated the exercise every other day, it wouldn't be long before I felt twenty years younger.

It was a serendipitous comment (if there is such a thing). I knew that there was no way I would walk daily; on the other hand, I was aware that once a week would not really give me a chance to get used to going for brisk walks of more than a couple of kilometres. So I tentatively proposed that I might walk with Sheila on Tuesdays and Thursdays, as well as either Saturdays or Sundays - three times a week - although sometimes it would only be half the distance.

So we communicate by text and I've managed it, although it was over a week before I actually felt enthusiastic about going out in the half-light; my limbs continued feeling as if they were being used rather too much, and a blister kept recurring on my heel.

However, I was rewarded one morning with this rather gorgeous sunrise:

- and today (although I didn't walk this morning) I've found myself with a great deal more energy than I can remember having for some time. Of course, that could also be connected with the beginning of more autumnal weather, at last. The humidity has finally gone, at least mostly, and we had the first rain on Monday:

We then had the second rain, and the third rain.... some of it very heavy, and a slight leak in our roof over the stairs, as has happened in previous years.

Autumn is not all good news - mosquitoes have appeared in the evenings, out of aestivation, perhaps. And there was a tragedy in Larnaka during some heavy winds and rain earlier in the week, when a tall crane fell over, crushing a car.

On a lighter note, we very much enjoyed spending half a day with some friends we had not seen for years, on Wednesday last week; they were in Ayia Napa for a family wedding, and were able to come to Larnaka a couple of days later. It was so good to catch up; one of the benefits of Facebook is being back in touch with several long-lost friends.

Other friends who live here returned to Larnaka after spending the summer in their home country, and came to supper one evening; I was pleased to be able to share some of the produce of my new kitchen 'toy' (a dehydrator, which I'm sure I will write about at great length in future):

And finally... 

I made an order from a UK website, which said that - as a new feature - it was not able to deliver to PO Boxes abroad. So I thought that perhaps they were now using couriers, and entered our street address for delivery. 

And waited. 

The promised 7-10 days passed, and there was no sign of my parcels. I had made the effort to stay in the house for most of the day, although a courier would usually phone before coming. But there was no sign of anything. I started to wonder if the order might come in the regular mail - the problem being that the postman drives around on a motorbike and does not deliver parcels to houses.  We have an outside, US-style metal mailbox attached to our fence so I checked that to see if there was a note telling me to collect a parcel - but no.  Nothing. 

On Friday, as I try to do weekly, I walked down to our PO Box to check for mail.  At the last minute, I grabbed a cloth bag, although I wasn't really expecting anything. I keep one light one folded in my handbag anyway, but I had an odd feeling that I might need a second one.  Introverted Intuition, or perhaps a hint from God...?

I collected a few items from the mailbox, and there was a slip saying that there were three parcels waiting for me.  I wondered if they were for Richard's approaching birthday, so went inside.  As I handed the slip to the friendly postmistress, she said, 'Ah! I need to talk to you about your parcels!' 

Uh-oh. Was there some problem?

No... the parcels, she told me, had our street address on them. She shrugged and pulled a face, as if to say, 'How silly of the sender.' 

But, she assured me, there was no problem because she knew our PO Box number, so she put the slip in there. However she said that it was possible that the postman might also put a slip in our home mailbox - she didn't seem to think it likely, but wanted me to know that if he did, it was for the same parcels. 

It was, indeed, my order. Or, at least, three out of the four boxes.  Just as well that the fourth one hadn't yet arrived, since it was quite difficult to fit it into my two bags but I managed: 

One of the things we really like about Cyprus is that so many things are relationship-based.