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The digging continued on. And they neglected to leave us an escape route. On returning home last night, I was greeted by a pile of earth and rubble and a two-foot deep trench in front of the gate. And not a soul in sight. Great. They resumed at 6 this morning, feigning not to understand my complaints, discarding cigarette boxes and butts in their wake. Another indication that I have indeed been here too long…I am not too fazed by this. I have discovered that we are being connected to the main water supply. Until now, we have been siphoning off water from a neighbouring house and been charged extortionately for the privilege. Do I expect this transfer to be smooth and trouble-free? Forsooth, I do not.
Seven nights now with little sleep. It’s getting beyond a joke. Munch has been ill, but is recovering. However, she’s now used to her nocturnal hugs and drinks and attention in general. I’m dead on my feet. And of course there’s another little Gremlin not quite up to doing his nights…
Where to next? The eternal, ubiquitous, almost rhetorical question.
I haven’t picked up the guitar in weeks. Haven’t written a word. Can’t deal with proof-reading…
Things seem to be grinding to a halt.
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