An odd thing happened, but we're not sure when. It must have been on Sunday evening or early Monday, because the Sage found it out on Monday morning.
We have no idea what cracked the window. There has been a hole in it for many years, undoubtedly caused by a bullet (someone potting rabbits or pigeons on the field without permission) and that happened in the Sage's parents' time, before we lived here. That is visible in the middle picture. But there's no reason for it to have spontaneously cracked so badly as a result of that.
I couldn't sleep at all last night, far too close and muggy. Mind you, the Sage usually opens the bedroom windows and he didn't, and I only realised it and opened them myself at 1.45 and I did at least catnap after that. I went to sleep when I arrived home after lunch and napped for a good hour.
I'm keeping up the social whirl, having gone out for lunch again with a friend today. And soon after I woke, friends called round. They spend much of their time abroad since their retirement, having holiday homes in Portugal and Corfu, and have invited me to visit them in Corfu several times although I've never been able to make it at a time to suit them. Now, I'm really going to try. They're coming for supper on Monday and I'll have looked through my diary by then and will see if I've got a free week. Put it another way ... this time, I'm jolly well going. I'd love to.
I couldn't sleep at all last night, far too close and muggy. Mind you, the Sage usually opens the bedroom windows and he didn't, and I only realised it and opened them myself at 1.45 and I did at least catnap after that. I went to sleep when I arrived home after lunch and napped for a good hour.
I'm keeping up the social whirl, having gone out for lunch again with a friend today. And soon after I woke, friends called round. They spend much of their time abroad since their retirement, having holiday homes in Portugal and Corfu, and have invited me to visit them in Corfu several times although I've never been able to make it at a time to suit them. Now, I'm really going to try. They're coming for supper on Monday and I'll have looked through my diary by then and will see if I've got a free week. Put it another way ... this time, I'm jolly well going. I'd love to.
9 comments:
I've got some old drachmas. They will be useful by the time you get to go...
I hear from a friend who has just returned from her holiday home that Greek islands are dirt cheap at present. Food out is half what it was last year apparently, but they will now only take cash, and some are demanding payment in US dollars.
Oh that sounds fun. I have a friend who runs Yoga weekends on Corfu and he says it's a wonderful place.
How strange about the window. A confused bird perhaps?
Could be the heat that cracked it. Did you know that glass is classified as a liquid!
Air rifle pellet originally I'd guess. But after being stressed like that for some years almost anything might be enough to crack the pane from the original point in all directions. I think Mig might be right. We've got a very young blackbird that keeps trying to come into our kitchen via the glass doors. You'd think it would learn after the first attempt gave it a headache, wouldn't you?.
Well, my friends will advise. I can take euros and dollars if necessary, thanks for the tip. I wasn't planning to use a credit card, though would take it as a back-up.
The glass is very thick and has been stable for years through frost and heat. We're suspecting a bird too, or possibly a pebble thrown up from a car tyre.
John, your comments keep going to the spam folder. I can't think why, I do approve them but there doesn't seem to be a way of it not having it happen. Next time you leave a comment, I'll sent a screenshot of the page to Blogger and ask them to sort it. Sorry darling.
A bullet hole in your window and a stuffed leopard in your bedroom. You're living the lifestyle of a big game hunter. Or a mobster with enemies. I'm not sure which.
Standard hazards of living in rural East Anglia, Phil.
On reflection (hehe), I think it may be something to do with the forcefield I had to set up around those BW blue shot-gun cartridges in the cloakroom nearby... ooops, sorry.
At least it isn't a horse's head in my bed, Phil. Not yet, anyway.
He should try living in the Saints, Mike, where everyone is related and feet are generally webbed.
He, as you say, he, BW.
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