Granny is back on her island. It is hot hot hot, windy windy windy, dry dry dry. What changes! - nothing much: except that the grape harvest is almost over - late this year but apparently the best ever - and that almost all colour has been bleached out of the landscape. And the chooks are growing and laying - some of them. As for the figs -she hasn't dared yet to inspect if they are still figging; if so they'll have to go on doing it for themselves, she has no time to harvest, let alone process them. Today and tomorrow arrive 12 scientists, plus apendages, making 20 adults in all, 2 babies and one 10 year old. One of the babies has been here since Monday with parents. Beloved's workshop, it's called, on animal welfare - of the esoteric sort. Doubt if the RSPCA would understand most of it. At least the endless emails about car rental, fedex deliveries, artists' supply shops, etc etc etc will now cease. Demanding people, scientists.
And the bread oven is now made and ready to go. As is almost a horrendously ugly barbecue, not envisaged by granny; downside of which is that Mr Handsome has not had much time to water; her citrus, bananas, olives lacking such attention may not survive. She is silently incandescent. Still the cabbages battle on; and the chillies. Cabbage curry - without lemon juice or banana raita, obviously.
Granny alas cannot stay till the end of the workshop. She did say at the end of her last post that there is more to tell. Dread family lurgy? Well it's back to its wicked ways. A very little demon stranger has taken up residence in Granny's right tit. She has spent much of August alternatively enjoying herself - really - and having needles jabbed into her to establish the demon's nature. Not good alas - but not so bad either, having been caught almost in embryo and to be attended to by the best establishment in England, if not Europe. Having survived the last for 25 years she is not that alarmed. Just fed up. Been here, seen this, done that. BORING. BOR-ING. The only thing that has thrown her every time is the bloody hospital - she HATES hospitals - mixture of bonhomie and doom, plus cups of tea and unwelcome verdicts. No, granny has no desire to be have her nose rubbed in the dangers; she can work those out for herself, thankyou. The only thing that really exercises her is the fights with the surgeons etc, always anxious to be more drastic than she is willing to let them be. Her English pear shape - big bum- generous thighs (that's being kind to them) short legs, long back - means that the only bits of her body she has always unequivocally liked are her tits and her feet.And no, she wouldn't take kindly to an offer to cut her feet off either.
All this will be determined next week. She does not intend a blow by blow account, but she will keep you briefly posted whenever she does have time to get to this. Meantime she is much less exercised by the unwelcome stranger than by the neglect of her garden and arrival of her guests. Latter much more eminent than her demise, which as far as she is concerned will be long in coming. L0ng long long. Meantime it's called 'carpe diem' - 'seize the day' - even the Romans knew how to get it right.
Cheers, friends. Never say die.