vanity and other matters

Granny and Beloved have had no water this weekend: sludge at the bottom of their aljibe (water storage tank to you) which was making their water stink has been cleared out by Mr Handsome and his son-in-law. Along with sludge came inadequate concrete base put in by those who restored the house. Mr Handsome wants to replace it with more adequate one. But this might take some time to do and Beloved's Beloved Daughter and family are arriving in less than a week: to have the aljibe out of action and the place waterless is not an option. Granny and Beloved are also of the opinion that as the previous occupants would have used the aljibe perfectly satisfactorily for getting on for 200 years and maybe even more, without benefit of concrete, it might as well stay that way, never mind the odd dead lizard lurking in the remaining sludge; etc etc. You don't drink this water, so it shouldn't matter. Mr Handsome who is entitled to his opinion does not agree. But Beloved's will prevailed so B'sBD and family will not be in danger of having to swill out loos with buckets of water etc etc. The aljibe is being filled up as she speaks.

The family will also be to take showers, as Granny and Beloved have not been able to do over the past few days. Granny bewailed this a little. She likes washing her hair before going out to dinner. If she doesn't wash and dry it frequently it stands on end.

'Who minds about that?' asks Beloved,

'I do,' says Granny.

'Why do you?' asks Beloved. Such vanity is quite beyond him. Though Granny did point out that when he can be persuaded out of his torn knees pants and ancient sagging t-shirts, he does have some quite nice clothes. So he must mind a bit what he looks like when dressed-up (by his standards, recognising that for him smart informal = clean t-shirt, formal = new t-shirt); meaning he does have a little vanity lurking somewhere.

Granny washed her hair using the cold water stored in the bath, so that was alright if not exactly sybaritic; never mind. Her hair didn't stick up on end, anyway.

Meantime she's busy, making up beds, trying to restore order all over the house. She's off back to the UK tonight; Beloved - who had been warned not to restore disorder in the meantime - will join her on Thursday (he claims the disorder is all hers, but let them agree to differ on that one.) Then they are off on a very brief holiday. Granny will put up another chapter of Going Mental from London, possibly a second one later, but she suspects that posts will be few on the ground for the next two weeks. Goodbye till then.