Anniversaries

Twenty-one years ago today, Martyn and I met for the first time.  It was three years and two days since my mother had died, and twenty-eight days since I’d retired from salaried work.  Earlier this month my old friend Claire would have hit 100: as well she didn’t, since her last years of reduced mobility and COVID-dictated isolation were a torment for her: she died a few days short of her 99th.  Today’s email brought a reminder that the Swiss communications regulator celebrated its 30th anniversary on 1 April.  That day they had a drinks reception in the evening, and they started work next day.  At 07:00 on 2 April I took a party of senior BT people in to meet them, and went on to enjoy a robust relationship over the following seven years until I reluctantly severed my professional links with a country for which I have such respect.

Claire and I first met in Switzerland back in 1974.  Martyn already knew the country well, and we have since been back a few times to play, as we put it, with the Federal train set.  My mother, alas, was not well enough to visit me when I was living in Switzerland, and it’s a sadness that she didn’t live to see Martyn and me get together.  

The light on the garden a couple of mornings ago was perfect - so perfect, I suppose, that it was pointless to try to capture it on camera - so I didn’t!  Spring bulbs and geraniums in the pots on the steps, the sun on the garnet acer, the young greens on the trees.  My time of year.  Less welcome in the garden is a fresh infestation of box tree moth caterpillars.  I sprayed on a supposed 25 million microscopic nematodes yesterday, and shall repeat the process next week: I couldn’t see any caterpillars today, but time will tell.  And of course we’ll need rain before we can hope the box hedge will recover.  The viburnum is just about at its best, though.

Today we have moved a stage further towards the end of the water leak episode.  Plasterers Paul and son Paul have done what looks like a good piece of work, and have kindly left us a roll of plastic to protect the long-suffering carpet when we paint the ceiling.  They left the place very clean and tidy, even washing the plastery footprints off the path from the chantier to the outside tap.  Highly recommended: details on application.  

So, we have a few weeks’ respite, give or take ceiling painting, before the next upheaval: the bathroom refit.  We think that’s on schedule: watch this space.