Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Feline frustration...?

On Monday, Tim left the house at about 8.15, so he could get to the church hall in time to set up the PA gear for 'Going Bananas!'. I left about half an hour later, as there was a group preparation time at 9am before the club started at 9.30.

Apparently, when Richard got up to go to work around 10am, Sophia was very annoyed with him. She was probably confused: the only day that Tim and I go out that early is Sunday, but we'd only just had a Sunday. When we all got home at lunchtime (Richard collected us, for which I was very thankful) she greeted us very noisily. Where, she asked, was the roast lunch that's her reward for allowing us all to be out for the morning?

On Tuesday, she didn't make so much fuss. But when we got back at lunch-time, this is what we saw:


Moreover, although the other three cats were there to meet us, there was no sign of Sophia. We assumed she was the one who had pulled so many books out of the book-cases. One of the others might have pulled a couple of books out, but no other cat would be quite so wholesale about it.

We did get worried for a few minutes. Surely, after all this time (we've been here over six weeks now) she wouldn't have set off to find us at the other house? We assumed she was very angry with us for being out yet again, and not really surprised at making this clear through pulling out books. So we were greatly relieved when she appeared at one of the doors. She must have gone out via the upstairs bathroom window (which we leave open), and jumped down from the balcony.

However, her behaviour on coming into the dining room suggested that we had judged her harshly. She went into her 'hunting' pose, and peered underneath all the bookcases. Then she jumped on the shelves of the rattan one, and tried to get behind it. When I put the books away again, she started patting at them to pull them out.

Evidently there was (or had been) something under or behind the bookcases. Something she had tried to catch. Perhaps it crawled behind some of the books, or maybe she hoped that by pulling books out she could get access to the back of the bookcase.

We wondered for a moment if it could be a snake, but we haven't seen any of those since moving. I don't think they could get in at this level, anyway. A giant spider, perhaps? A cockroach? Either was a possibility, and yet she doesn't seem to make much fuss about them when she sees them. Besides, with all the book-moving, I would have expected one of those to crawl out to see what was going on.

So our best guess is that it might be a gecko - if those are the small, almost translucent lizard-like creatures that I've seen once or twice in the house. They seem to hide in odd places for lengthy periods, only to appear a few days later somewhere else. I don't know how they get in, but they dont'seem to do any harm. And, given Sophia's love of lizards (she used to catch and eat several each week at the other house) she could well have expended a lot of energy if she thought a snack was crawling around the walls.

It didn't appear, however. Today she sniffed around the bookcases again, and tried to get underneath one of them, but to no avail. Either it - whatever it is - has vanished, or it's still hiding.

Monday, August 28, 2006

A typical summer week in Cyprus: humidity, a migraine, and a Holiday Club

Another week has vanished into the ether. It was a very humid week. Despite the temperatures staying at a fairly steady 32-33C during the daytime, which isn't too bad, the weather site told us it 'felt like' 36-39, and I think this was due to the high humidity, and lack of breeze. We found ourselves using the air conditioning rather more than previously, and were very thankful for it.

We did a lot of entertaining, too. No, not juggling or playing the piano: having guests for meals. We seem to have had more meal guests in the past six weeks than we had at our other house in an entire year. But this past week has been the most so far. On Wednesday, as usual, we had a couple of guys from Richard's office for lunch. No problem there - bread in the breadmaker, salads, cheese, tuna, fruit.

On Thursday evening we had three people for an evening meal. On Friday we had four others. Both times, they included people who were only in Larnaka for a short time, and had no other time free. I wouldn't have chosen to have two 'dinner parties' (as they used to be called) on two consecutive evenings, but we wanted to see all the relevant people so we had no choice. And we were very glad to see them all.

Air conditioning makes cooking possible in the summer months, so preparing the meals wasn't too difficult. Having a dishwasher makes clearing up afterwards far less of a chore than spending an hour and a half washing dishes by hand. Even so, by the time our Friday dinner guests left, I knew I was developing a migraine. A headache had been threatening for a few days, perhaps due to the high humidity, and it finally struck with full force. I spent much of Saturday lying down, taking powdered ginger in pineapple juice to relieve it somewhat, and eventually succumbing to paracetamol.

On Sunday we had yet more guests for lunch - friends who will soon be leaving the island, and whose schedule is busy. No problem - Tim usually cooks Sunday lunch, and we've had lunch guests most Sundays since we moved here. I was much better Sunday morning but decided not to go to church, so I made a dessert instead, and did the stuffing for the chicken. Tim did all the rest when he got back from church. It was a very pleasant meal and chat afterwards, and the migraine didn't recur (thankfully) but I was SO tired by the evening.

Alas, I could not curl up with a book and forget about the rest of the world.

This week the local English-speaking Protestant churches are running a Holiday Club - a Scripture Union one called 'Going Bananas'. It's one that I helped with at our UK church in 1997, shortly before we came out here. Tim, who was 8 at the time, went along; Dan, who was 10, was a sort of junior helper - he played in the band (on clarinet) and did one of the dramas. I think the age-range was probably 6-10, but he was never very keen on joining in silly games, songs etc as a child. But as a junior helper, he joined in enthusiastically.

Anyway, it's finally come to Cyprus. Tim has had the job of organising the 'banana band', the sound effects and the PA. I was asked, a few weeks ago, if I might be prepared to help... I said a tentative yes, thinking perhaps I could assist children cutting things out, or perhaps decorate the hall. Instead, I found myself as a small group leader (sorry, that should be 'cabin crew' member). I have the 5s and 6s. All props are prepared in advance, and most of the action goes on in the big group, but still I have to do a few activities and discussions with the group, assisted by two young teenage helpers.

On Saturday, amidst the heat, humidity, exhaustion and migraine, I wondered how I would manage.

On Sunday evening, we had to be at the church hall to help set up, find out what's happening today, and learn a couple of songs. I did NOT want to go, but made my way there... it was a bit chaotic but quite fun in an odd sort of way. A little less humid, too, thankfully. We were there for about two-and-a-half hours - I had expected maybe an hour. Afterwards, I was even MORE tired. I went to bed at 9.30 and was asleep within about two minutes.

Unfortunately, I woke about 2.30pm and then couldn't get back to sleep. So this morning I felt like a zombie. But went along to the church hall (er, that is, 'Banana Island') - and it all went extremely well. The children seemed to blend into groups quickly, were enthusiastic (if noisy), and interested. The people at the front, including the band, did brilliantly.

Moreoever, it was a little less hot and much less humid than last week. For which I am very thankful.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Phoning Dan....

We try and phone Daniel about once a month. The Doulos now has satellite technology, meaning we dial a number in the USA to speak to him, and the cost is minimal. He had a day off today, which he spent reading and hanging out with some friends. He had something of a cold so hadn't gone out in the evening with a crowd of others, and was enjoying the peace on the ship when hardly anyone was around. (They're five hours ahead of us currently, so early afternoon here is evening there).

Dan was recently appointed as the second 'waterman' on board, quite a responsible job. He didn't really want it, but (thankfully) is enjoying it very much. Because it's not quite full-time, he also has other jobs such as making keys and mending shoes, both of which he's also enjoyed learning. And he's picking up some knowledge about engines, and spending a bit of time in the engine-room.

In the course of the conversation, he was talking about the water tests that have to be done, explaining what they did, and how there was a problem with excess bacteria at this port. He sounded very knowledgeable.

One of the things that had slightly worried me about home educating the boys as teenagers was that I know almost nothing about science of any sort (despite getting grade A in O-level physics-and-chemistry). The correspondence course they did was heavily theoretical as far as science went, with no lab work at all - just a few demonstrations to watch on DVD.

We did have a rather nice 'chemistry set' when they were younger, full of white powders and instructions, but we never got very far with it. It all seemed rather pointless, and - as Dan pointed out - all we were doing was trusting what the book said. How did we KNOW that each powder was in fact what it claimed to be?

'So,' I said to Dan this afternoon. 'It hasn't been a huge disadvantage that you've never really done any chemistry, then?'

'Oh no,' he said, and I could almost hear the shrug. 'No problem at all. In fact, I knew more chemistry than one of my friends here who did chemistry GCSE at school.'

'Oh, good....'

'Also, there's a guy here who's done an entire degree in chemistry, or biochemistry or something of the sort. He's a real expert, and working in the engine room. So if I do have any queries, I just go and ask him and he's always happy to explain.'

I'm glad we trusted our instincts. Someone educated at home picks up a huge amount of general knowledge, it seems. Particularly in conversations, and books, and on the Internet. They know that there's no limit to learning, and that lack of knowledge at any point is not a disadvantage. It's never too late to learn something new. Moreover, because there's no competition or one-upmanship, they don't mind asking other people who know more than they do.

Also, they seem to share their own knowledge with others, without being condescending about it. Later on in the conversation, Dan mentioned that he was chatting to a guitarist, who was worried that something he was playing was too high.

'So,' said Dan, 'Let's transpose it.'

'Huh?' said the guitarist. 'How do you do that? Isn't it really difficult?'

'Not really,' Dan assured him. Then spent a few minutes drawing out a chart to explain how to transpose on guitar. Dan isn't really a guitarist, although he plays a bit. His main instrument is clarinet, and his second one is drums. He's studied music theory and picked up a fair bit from general reading and discussion. Since he's never HAD to sit down and work (well, not since he was 11), he's always enjoyed learning.

He and the guitarist spent ten minutes transposing the music. Then the guitarist asked how a capo works, and Dan showed him, explaining the theory behind that. He said it was wonderful, he could almost see things clicking into place in the guy's head as he fit in this new (to him) information along with the guitar playing and techniques he knew already.

So Dan asked if we could find him an advanced music theory book, to take out when we hope to visit him later in the year. And perhaps one about jazz theory.

Then he started talking about all the things he still wants to learn. Maybe there is a problem with home education, after all - there's no motivation to specialise, because everything seems like fun. Dan was pondering whether he could do a course in marine engineering, to qualify him fully to work on a ship in future - either back on the Doulos in specialist role, or on an ordinary ship as a paid job. The Doulos always needs marine engineers, apparently.

But then he said that he's also realised he'd like to study drama more seriously. He's done up to Grade 8 in drama, and worked for a year in the local Antidote Theatre company. But he''d like to take a proper course about mime, for instance, and other aspects of drama.

Unfortunately, there don't seem to be any college courses that combine marine engineering with drama....

Then he said he thought it would also be wonderful to study music seriously for a few years. He was chatting to a student taking a music degree, who took a year out to work on the Doulos. Dan said he realised just how much he doesn't know, and how much more there is to learn.

But he doesn't think it would be right to be a perpetual student. So he's pondering what path to take in the future - whether to spend more time learning about engineering on board, or move (as he had planned originally) more towards the creative side. At present he's doing both, which of course is ideal, but he feels that he has so much more to learn in both, and isn't sure which would be of more use.

Apparently the phone call was 81 minutes.... a very long time for me, since I don't much like the phone. But it's so good to chat to Dan. I'm very glad we're in the 21st century with technology like satellite phones (and instant messaging on the computer) making it easy and inexpensive to communicate with our son as he travels around the Far East.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Where to find picture hooks in Larnaka on Saturday afternoon

This morning we painted the stairs and landing. This afternoon, we decided to hang our family portrait gallery (a mixed bag of framed photos over the years) on the wall next to the stairs.

Problem: we needed more picture hooks.

Further problem: the shop where Richard bought the previous hooks, EOL, has been closed for the August break, and he was almost certain it was still closed today.

But we knew we had seen them in supermarkets, and we also knew that Cyprus is, slowly, becoming more European, meaning that supermarkets at least are now open on Saturday afternoons. When we first arrived here, nearly 9 years ago, everything closed at 1pm Saturday and re-opened Monday morning. Hours are gradually extending, and supermarkets are now open until about 8pm, even on a Saturday (though not, of course, on Sundays).

We also needed some light shades. The last ones we bought, at our old house, were from Orphanides supermarket so we decided to go there and hoped we might find picture hooks too.

Alas, Orphanides had very few light shades. We did manage to find one small one suitable for a bedside lamp, which we needed. But no sign of picture hooks.

Still, we also found some broccoli, which Metro (our usual supermarket) had run out of yesterday.

Next stop: Chris Carrefour supermarket, which has recently been refurbished and redesigned after the merger with Carrefour. We were impressed to see that it now has one of those sliding ramp type escalators where trolleys lock in place, so they can be taken upstairs. Previously there was only a rather clunky lift, if it was necessary to take a trolley between floors.

Unfortunately, Chris Carrefour had even fewer light shades than Orphanides. Nor did it have any picture hooks.

But we did find some little wooden dowels, which Richard needed for Dan's cabin bed.

It occurred to us that Kleima, a kind of general store with everything from fridges and TVs to toys and tools might have lamp shades. We had no idea if it would be open - but discovered it was, until 4pm.

As we parked in the Kleima car park, we were startled to see something we had not seen for some months - raindrops on the windscreen! Naturally I grabbed the camera and snapped a photo.


It only lasted a few seconds, but was still rather amazing for August.

Unfortunately, it became unbelievably humid later in the evening. I don't know if there's a connection.

In Kleima, there were no light shades.

On the other hand, they did have picture hooks...

So we then spent an hour starting to sort through our framed photos and decide some kind of order to hang them.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Over half-way through August...

... and still no major heatwave, other than the odd one at the end of May. The temperature sticks around 32-34C in the shade during the daytime, which is hot but not unbearable. Yesterday it was extremely humid, with the sky quite grey for the first half of the morning. It almost looked as if it might rain - perhaps it did in the mountains. Not here, though. We'd have been very surprised if it did.

I'm not entirely sure where the week has gone, now Friday has rolled around again. On Tuesday evening we gave Daniel's room a coat of paint, in a colour he had chosen ('like a frappé') but it's one of those shades that needs a second coat. We'll probably do that tonight. Richard finished putting the cabin bed together, as far as possible with some parts missing, and is pondering what to do - how to include shelving, and perhaps a desk, since the room isn't really big enough for a separate desk. Some time soon I need to adjust the curtains Dan had in his room at our other house to fit his room here.

Of course, he won't be back from the Doulos for another eighteen months or so, and while he said he would probably want to live at home for at least a year, things may change. Still, we're treating it as his room at present. If we have a guest staying in the main part of the house, Tim will probably sleep in Dan's room so the guest can have the regular bed in Tim's room. So it's useful to get the room useable. Once the paint, furniture and curtains are done, we'll unpack some of the boxes labelled, variously, 'Daniel's books' (several), 'Daniel's junk', 'Daniel's miscellaneous', 'Daniel's stuff'..... and so on.

Then tomorrow morning we hope to paint the hall/stairs/landing area. The paint shop was open this morning, rather to our surprise since it's still the August holiday period and lots of places are closed. We're going to hang all our framed photos on the wall by the stairs, so it will be good to get that done. Then we only have the guest apartment downstairs to paint....

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Painting the study

Yesterday evening after supper, Richard suggested we paint the study. I was thinking of waiting until it got a bit cooler, but if he was in the mood to paint, then it seemed like a good idea to get on with it. We had decided to use the same colour as the living room (the palest version of 'warm apricot') since the study is a room directly off the living room, and we liked it, and we had some left over!

Then Tim suggested we watch another episode of 'Quantum Leap' (first season DVD), which I was given a while ago. That appealed considerably more than painting, so we did that.

Then at nine o'clock, Richard started talking about painting again. And got started. I expected to help - I even got changed into my painting clothes - but was much too tired. I'm just not a night owl. Sitting reading or talking is fine in the late evening, but painting is not. So I said I would do all the lower sections of the walls in the morning. Richard, who is much more awake in evenings, said he would do all the higher bits of the room. And did so. Not so easy when there's furniture in the room, of course, but since we weren't painting the ceiling we just moved it out of the way when necessary.

This morning I finished it, and when Richard got up we put everything back where it belongs. Then I found some pictures that seemed suitable, and at lunch-time Richard hung them.

It doesn't look a whole lot different since it was white before, and is now off-white. We had even put the curtains up a few weeks back. But it's distinctly cleaner-looking than it was and I like having pictures on the walls.

Study transformation in photos:

1. Here's how it was just after we moved in. Desk and computer in place and functioning, many wires in evidence, and other random objects which we thought might belong there in future:


2. A few days after we moved. A picture on the wall that didn't look right (and got moved downstairs) - on a convenient hook. Desk and computer still working, lots of wires showing, and piles of boxes waiting to be sorted:


3. The room feeling lived in, at the end of July. Curtains hung, computer working, useful bookcase with various clutter, sofa-bed moved to hide the wires. Only one box remaining on the floor to be unpacked. (Others are tidily away in closets):


4. Here it is this afternoon, after painting. The wall really doesn't look much different; the desk, sofa-bed and bookcase are all returned to their places. But a couple of my grandmother's paintings are now gracing the walls around the desk:


5. The other, previously unphotographed side of the room, where the box contains an ancient sewing machine and there's a radiator for the cold days. Here we've hung a pastel print of a fawn which we bought years ago when living temporarily in the USA, and shipped first to the UK, now here. I always liked it but it didn't go anywhere else, so I was pleased to find it looked exactly right in the study. On the other wall is the first tapestry picture I created, not as a child but a few years ago.

Monday, August 14, 2006

Going batty...

On Sunday morning, I half-awoke around 5am. It was still pretty dark outside, and our curtains were drawn. But I could hear a strange sound, almost as if something was being dragged over our roof. Then it stopped. I tried to get back to sleep, but every so often the noise returned. Richard was still fast asleep, and I started wondering what on earth it could be. It sounded rather closer than the roof, but I couldn't see anything obvious. I wondered if there was a space between the ceiling and the roof, and whether a bird had got trapped.

One of the cats was on our bed, and was also alert, moving her head around as if to follow a sound. But she didn't seem too disturbed. At one point I thought I saw something black on the ceiling, but when I switched my side-light on, there was nothing there. Ah well. I got up anyway. We were having people coming for lunch, and although Tim usually cooks the main course on Sundays (roast chicken yesterday), I wanted to prepare some desserts before it got too hot. It was already 30C in the kitchen about 6am when I got started. And I learned something: the ice cream churn does not function well at that temperature. The beautifully whipped ice cream shrunk back to evaporated milk mixed with cocoa powder. But the thought of using air conditioning at that time in the morning goes right against the grain!

The day went well, and I didn't go upstairs again until the evening when some friends called in and we showed them around. I half-remembered the morning's noises, but as our balcony door had been open most of the day, I assumed that whatever it was - if not my imagination - it would have flown out.

It wasn't until about 10.30pm when I had just got into bed that we heard a definite fluttering sound behind one of the curtains. Sophia was in the room, and heard it too. She leapt half way up the curtain, then slipped down again. Next thing we knew, something black and small was flying around the room at great speed. In no time at all I was completely covered with the sheet, while Richard raced around, aided by Sophia, trying to grab hold of whatever-it-was.

I could hear a high-pitched humming, and its behaviour wasn't that of a bird, so we guessed it had to be a bat. It kept bumping into the walls, which seemed a bit odd. Nor could it find the way out. It would fly near the open balcony door, miss it by about 15cm, and then whizz back into the room again.

I knew all that because Richard gave me a running commentary. I was not watching. It's not that I have any objection to bats. I think they're lovely, in their place. Which is not in my bedroom.

At our previous house, we had bats living in the high cypress tree in the back yard, and I would sometimes sit out on the patio in the early evening, watching the bats swoop around over my head. I was particularly pleased when I learned that they eat their weight in insects every night. The more insects that are eaten, the better, in my view. I support bats and their right to life fully.

But I do NOT like flying creatures in the house. Logic disappears, and mild phobia takes over.

Eventually the bat stopped, about half a metre from the balcony door, poised at the edge of the roof. Richard crept out to get the step-ladder (which was in Dan's room, not far away)... and suggested I should go and get the digital camera! Even more surprising, I did so. Despite risking a bat in my hair, a photo for this blog was more important.

Richard tried to take a close-up from the top of the ladder, but it's a bit out of focus. Perhaps he was too close, and didn't use 'macro' mode. It doesn't look much like a bat in this, but here it is anyway for the record:


And here he is, pillowcase in hand, perhaps the nearest he's ever got to being a knight rescuing his fair lady from a dragon.


He caught it gently, and released it outside. It flew away into the darkness.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Boxes, beds and beaches

Yesterday morning Richard checked all our remaining unpacked boxes, most of which he's packed away neatly in cupboards to get them out of the way. Some can stay packed, such as Christmas decorations, or archive tapes and photo negatives. We did find a few useful items and ornaments, and a couple of boxes of paperwork which are now in the study, awaiting further sorting.

Then he decided to make a start on Daniel's room. He unpacked all his clothes and put them in the built-in closets. Of course, Dan took most of his clothes with him to the Doulos, but there are still some shirts, trousers etc here.

In the afternoon, Richard decided to make a start on re-building Dan's cabin bed, which we brought out from the UK last Autumn in individual pieces. Since it was Richard's own creation, based on bunk beds and bookshelves, we couldn't really remember how it worked - and some of it needs to be changed anyway.


It's starting to go together:


In the evening we were invited out for a swim and a meal. The Australian friend who stayed here for a couple of weeks has been to house-sitting for some other friends who are currently travelling, as their flat is right by the beach. We sat and had some drinks at first, and realised how much we take it for granted that life is multi-cultural/international. Here's Richard (a Brit), drinking Sangria (Spanish) from a Starbucks mug (American), which he was offered by a friend (Australian) who's an evacuee (from Lebanon) staying at the home of some other friends (Canadian) - in Cyprus.



The water was lovely and warm shortly after 5pm, and the sun not too burning, so we went to swim for about an hour. Not that we do a huge amount of swimming: more bobbing up and down in the water, with occasional more energetic moments.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Clouds appearing

Some years ago, a friend told me that when clouds first start appearing in the clear summer skies in Cyprus, it means that the first rain of the autumn will come in about six weeks' time. In subsequent years I took note, and found this was not far out.

In the last week, we've had a few clouds in the sky, and last night around 5pm the sky looked distinctly un-Cypriot:


So, maybe it might rain in mid-September? It would be wonderful if it did, as the drought is getting quite serious.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

The cool of the evening

I'm thankful for many things in this new house. But one thing that stands out above all the rest is the way that the cats adjusted so quickly and easily. You would think they had always lived here. They've sorted out their own routines, they're confident moving around the neighbourhood, they don't seem bothered by the dogs in the street, and they haven't shown the slightest indication to return to the old house.

Their essential characters remain the same, of course. Cleo still looks around nervously at any unexpected noise, and loves to sleep in quiet corners, particularly cardboard boxes. Sophia is still very talkative and likes to ensure we do things at the same times each day. Jemima still likes to be out at night, and sleep all morning, and is very cuddly to me, while mostly ignoring anyone else. Tessie still greets everyone who comes into the house and likes to sit on as many laps as possible.

But a new habit is that of sitting outside on the steps in the evening around 8pm, as the temperatures cool slightly. This is the time when many Cypriots have their evening meal, so perhaps there are tempting scents on the breeze. But the cats simply sit and watch the world go by. Usually it's just one or two of them, but yesterday I caught three of them all at the same time:


Sophia is at the top, her twin Jemima is just below, and Tessie is the one at the front of the picture.

Cleo was fast asleep in a cardboard box at the time. Which is preferable to her choice of steps: she prefers to be camouflaged wherever possible, and likes to sleep on one of the black metal spiral steps at the other side of the house. Which is fine, until someone is going up or down and she lies there, refusing to move...

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Flowering succulents

This is what our succulent plants look like when the sun's out:

Stuffing for toys

Years ago I enjoyed knitting soft toys - for the boys, when they were small, and then later on for their school fairs in the UK. Since coming to Cyprus I haven't done any knitting. But last October, when we cleared out the rest of our things from our UK house, I came across some booklets of knitting patterns, needles and lots of yarn. Mostly light, so we brought it out. And, in the past couple of weeks, it's come to light in various boxes.

Inspired by our Australian friend's knitting, I brought it all out on Monday, and decided to start kntting soft toys again, perhaps for one of the church fairs later in the year. I began with a simple 'chicken' wearing a hat... notes on the booklet told me I'd previously done this in about three hours. I had plenty of suitable colours so I got started....

Then realised I had nothing to stuff toys with. Nor have I seen kapok or its washable equivalent anywhere in Cyprus, though no doubt it exists. I didn't suppose I would make many, so I only needed a small amount...

On Tuesday morning, I ventured out to our nearby Zako - a popular, albeit fairly small, haberdashery/yarn/lingerie store. Only five minutes' walk from our house, which is convenient.

I couldn't see anything suitable - it's much smaller than the Zako in town - but, as usual, the girl on the till came to ask me if I wanted any help, so I asked if she sold stuffing for soft toys.

She looked at me blankly. Evidently not one of the many bilingual shop assistants, and I don't have the faintest idea what toy stuffing would be in Greek. But she made a good effort to speak English, and eventually with a bit of gesturing and simpler words, I managed to explain what I meant. Her face brightened, and she went into a cupboard to find it. She emerged with this:


I must have looked rather surprised - at the size! - because her face fell, and she said, 'This is what to put inside pillows. Is this what you want?

I agreed that it was indeed what I wanted - or roughly so, anyway. I asked her if it could be washed, and she said it could. Then, a little hesitantly, I asked her what it would cost. I had expected to pay about three or four pounds for something probably a sixth that size. Perhaps I could ask her for a small bagful?

'One pound and twenty-five cents," she said.

'For all that?'

'Certainly.'

So I paid my £1.25 [note to American readers, this is approximately $2.50 US] and carried it home. It wasn't heavy, but a little awkward.

On Thursday I finished my first creation. Here he is, having made barely a dent in the bag of stuffing:


I should think I could knit a soft toy every week for the next ten years and not finish that bag...!

One month since we moved: day-to-day living

In some ways it feels as if we've been in this house for far longer than a month. The main part is reasonably organised (other than some boxes still in cupboards, and Dan's room which is a great muddle, and some painting which still needs to be done...) and when we made a list this week of things left to buy and/or do, it was surprisingly short.

At the same time, it still feels as if we're in the holiday/vacation period of culture change. I still can't quite believe that it's ours. Last night, driving home from an evening with friends, Richard needed to drop me home before going to see someone else who was briefly in Larnaka. He nearly took me to the old house. If he had done, I hope I would have noticed before getting out...!

Life is settling down, although as ever in Summer I tend to estivate. Less so than last year, but still it's difficult to do very much when the outside temperatures are in the thirties. [That's high eighties or nineties fahrenheit]. We do have air conditioning in all the rooms, but it's not particularly healthy to use them all the time, and would be rather expensive if we did! Much better simply to switch it on in rooms we're using, when necessary. We run them at 28C [82F] /which feels surprisingly cool. When my computer's on, I use the a/c since computers tend to be unreliable when it gets over 30C. At night we run them in the bedrooms, in economy mode, so that the cooling is only on when the temp is above 28, but they work as fan and dehumidifier all night. I also use the one in the kitchen if I'm cooking, and we sometimes use the living-room a/c in the evening if it feels particularly humid.

Twice this week I've been asked what my days look like. So if anyone's really interested, here's an approximate outline:

6am (ish) - get up in yesterday's clothes, open curtains, feed cats, have coffee, read, pray, etc
7.30am - empty dishwasher (oh, how I like having a dishwasher!), general dusting/mopping of floors (which get surprisingly grubby with dust and cat hair), quick clean of bathrooms
8.30am (or earlier, if possible) - out to Post Office, or fruit shop, or any other errands on foot, before it gets too hot.
9.00am - take Richard his coffee! Have breakfast (fruit and yogurt). Make new yogurt if necessary, put ingredients in breadmaker, put on washing machine.
9.30am - quick dust/mop of upstairs, or downstairs guest flat. Feeling very hot and sticky by now.
10am - have wonderful cool shower and get dressed in clean clothes!

On Wednesdays we usually have one or two of Richard's colleagues to lunch, so I clear out the fridge, make some salads, wash extra fruit, and possibly make some cake. On Fridays we do our weekly supermarket shop, so I get that unpacked and put away, then make the beds with clean sheets. On Thursday, when I've been to the Post Office for mail, I sort it and deal with anything that needs doing. On Saturday I do any necessary ironing (minimal, but at least it's bearable with the a/c switched on).

Other than that, I try and use the mornings reasonably constructively: I'm working through a Greek study book in the hope of finally mastering the language at basic level; I'm also working on a floral tapestry picture which I started over two years ago... no, it's not enormous, I just keep forgetting to do it. A little each day seems to be getting somewhere. I also do some writing, and hang out the laundry when it's finished washing.

I also try and do a bit of unpacking each day. I don't know how many boxes remain, but I hope we're more than half-way through. Of course, now we've found all the important things, it would be all too easy just to leave the others unpacked. But now we've finally bought somewhere, and hopeto stay here long-term, we feel we should sort through ALL our things, and either find a place for them or get rid of them.

Around 1pm we have lunch: fresh bread, cheese, salads, fruit, etc. Richard comes home for an hour, which is nice. Around 2pm most people here have a siesta for a couple of hours; if I'm really tired I might do that, but usually I switch my computer on. I might read and write email, get our accounts up-to-date, chat with Dan via IM if he's online, read blogs and forums, write blog entries, look at the latest news, play Babble or Sudoku, etc. I try and switch it off around 5pm as it would be very easy to spend hours and hours online and forget about 'real life'.

A couple of times a week in the summer we go swimming around 5pm for an hour or so, when the sun isn't too high but the sea is still very warm, then we eat something quick and easy afterwards. Other days I spend a bit longer cooking; I also fold and put away the laundry, water the plants (when I remember!), and empty the bins. We usually eat around 7pm in summer, or a little earlier.

After we've cleared away from our meal, and put the dishwasher on, we might watch a DVD together if we're all in, or possibly play a board game, although we haven't done so since Dan went away in January. Tim's out two evenings a week, and Richard has to pop back to the office two or three times a week, depending on who's there or what urgent project needs continuing, so I might read or knit (or possibly spend more time at the computer if I forgot to switch it off).

So there it is. Nothing terribly exciting, and in a week like this one, time seems to whizz by so I can barely believe it's Saturday again. Tim has spent most of today with friends in the 'studio' downstairs recording some music, and Richard's spent most of his time with his Egyptian colleague, who's returning to Egypt tonight. He wanted to buy one or two gifts, and there were a couple of things he needed to finish at the office and hand over to Richard. I expect he'll be eating with us tonight.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Guest flat saga

The downstairs flat, which will mostly be for guests to use, had two bedrooms, and also a separate room which was used as a hairdressing salon by the prevous owners. Businesses in homes need to have separate outside access in Cyprus, and not have doors into the main part of the house, so an internal wall had been built to block off part of the living room.

The people selling the house offered to get rid of the wall, the pipes and the mirrors, but we thought it would make a good bedroom so we asked them to leave it. Tim is using one of the rooms as a music studio (with friends there recording, as I type...) and we wanted to have two bedrooms available for guests. The salon room looks out onto the front porch, so it gets morning sun, and is a reasonable size to make a double room. When we moved, we put our old double bed in there, and it fitted well.


When we heard that we were having guests from Lebanon unexpectedly, we realised there was no chance of getting it ready in time so they had the other bedroom, where there are two single beds. But we thought it would be a good idea to get the salon room finished, in case of further short-notice visitors.

We managed to buy a sink to be plumbed in the corner where the hair-washing place was. But as the pipes need to be moved (meaning the floor has to be dug up in places) Richard didn't want to do that himself.


We have a friend in the building trade, and he said he could arrange for a plumber to come, but he didn't know if it would be before the August holiday (which is basically two or three weeks at the start of the month).

The next thing to do was to cut a hole in the wall for an internal door, so Richard did that. He didn't make it very big - he found some metal construction holding up the plasterboard - but sufficient to get through.

Then we learned that it's not possible to buy doors directly here. Apparently they're all made to order by carpenters. We asked our friend to recommend one. Richard told the carpenter we wanted teak to match the other doors, then asked what sizes he could make. The carpenter said he could make any size door - what did we want? Richard said it was an internal door... and the carpenter said in that case there was just one standard size. So much for all doors having to be custom made! We asked him to make it, and amazingly it was produced just over a week ago. It looked enormous, but never mind.


Unfortunately, carpenters don't fit doors. We needed a builder who would cut the hole to the right size and actually fit the door. We were told it would probably happen in September...

On Monday, the builder arrived. He looked at the hole. Uh-oh... he didn't have the tools to cut metal, but could get hold of them. And he needed to borrow Richard's step-ladder. Actually it was a building supervisor, and two assitant builders (who did the actual work). But when they had gathered together the necessary tools, they cut the hole, and fitted the door.

However they said they couldn't fit the frame trim because the carpenter has to do that. They don't have the right tools. Nor did they fit any handle on the door (we apparently have to choose and fit those) although they did put in a lock. And told us not to touch the door for 24 hours, while the sealant in the wall hardened.

In the afternoon, the plumber (and his assistant) arrived. They discussed where exactly to put the sink. They told us that the pipes needed to be moved.

'Yes,' said Richard, 'we know.'

'Ah, said the plumber. 'I don't have the tools to dig holes. You need a builder for that.'

Apparently the builder who needed to dig the hole (or supervise it) was the same builder who had been there in the morning supervising the door fitting. The plumber phoned him. The builder said he hadn't thought about it, so he would come back later with equipment to dig up the floor. The plumber drew lines on the wall and floor to show what needed to be done, and said he would come back after the builder had been.

On Tuesday, nobody came.

On Wednesday, nobody came.

By Thursday, we realised that this job wasn't going to be done until after the August holiday, which probably means September some time.

Ah well. At least we tried.