By the time we get back to the Cape George, after 5 weeks chasing Stone Martens around ancient house roofs in the Charente region of France with cousin Angela, the Master Builder's plane has made its re-run of a maiden flight and his hangar is starting to look like an municipal installation. Maybe he needs a uniform. Minimum a pilot's cap. We have become a flying centre.
It is already late June but the weather here has been wintry. Even as we arrive up the 2-kilometer driveway hopefully pulling our trailer loaded with the 300-lb garden statue of Pan and an old drop-leaf table for the screened-in porch, there are huge rain-clouds overhead which, as we turn into the property, miraculously break into sunshine. This could be a good omen.
The most surprising things on our return: the garden has survived with little winterkill or deer-devour. It actually looks like a garden! The smell in the house is woody, a nice odour, even if the place is dampish. Start up a fire, turn on the 5 convection heaters and things quickly dry out. Shut all the taps and turn on the water pump, which I think must be broken because I can't hear it: of course, no reason I should hear it. It's at the bottom of the well. In the casing of one of the filters I find a dead frog, I suspect, which really stinks. Decomposition really sucks. However, bleach does the job and life moves on. The basement is dry from the action of the sump pump we installed and we have water. Later we have hot water! The dishwasher and washer work and the only casualty seems to be the tap/shower control on the bath which now can't discriminate. The bath still fills up.
Clean out the screened-in porch, put the screens in place, get the MB's catamaran out, lay out some furniture and I'm ready to think about building the entry step-porch. The gardener is taking notes and planning big.
The training routine is simple: at 7 a 20 minute walk to the lighthouse (I must read Virginia Woolf again) with a 20 minute walk back loaded up with paving stones from the beach. This followed by a fruit-oat breakfast. Some thought, writing even like this. Then working on some project until lunch at 1 pm. Maybe watch a World Cup game streamed in live, then back out to work again. No aperitifs, one plate of food for dinner, then resting until sleeptime. I can hardly believe how good I feel after 3 days of this Cape routine.
