As you can see from the picture the fire installation is almost completed. The stonework and hearth will be varnished and a piece of hardwood will be put around the front and sides of the hearth to add the final touches.
We’ve lit the fire a couple of times and it’s been a disaster both times. The first time, dirty, black water came out of a joint near where it goes through the wall. This water dripped and hit the fire splashing everything in sight. Bugger. Very nicely burying our heads in the sand, we thought this was a one-off so we lit it again the next day after sealing the leaky joint.
With trembling fingers, the fire was lit and we waited with bated breath. The joint wept a little but this time an old t-shirt was stuffed behind the flue to prevent any mess. After a few minutes, the leak stopped and we were able to, at last, enjoy the benefits of a lovely piece of kit.
The fire was kept very low for about eight hours and then when we went to bed it was allowed to go out. I got up next morning and again everything was splashed to buggery. Double bugger.
As nobody else has had this sort of problem we’ve come to the conclusion that a chimney stack is needed to prevent the condensation. This isn’t particularly difficult or costly – it’s just two days work, fifty Euros and a right, royal pain in the arse. Never mind – nothing worthwhile is ever easy eh? Fortunately, the weather is still mild and we’re coping OK with out little portable gas stove.
The summer visitors are starting to migrate back to their winter residences. Jeff and Sue fly home tomorrow, Mick and Cheryl go home next week and Hubert and Rosemary will be a fortnight after that I think. Our quiz team will be down to three Grumpies and three Loose Women. We haven’t spoken about amalgamating the two teams. Last winter there were only four of us so the question never arose. Watch this space.
Our usual quiz venue is closing for three weeks for alteration so we’re moving across the square to a quaint little Spanish bar for three weeks. It’ll be like playing away.
As a thank you to my two good friends, Albie and Jeff, for their help with the fire installation and my little gardening job, we went out to a local hostelry last night. This particular hostelry happens to serve excellent Indian food. Not content with coming home early half-pissed, we decided to move to another bar, stay late and come home fully pissed.
The result of these festivities meant we missed a doctor’s appointment this morning as we slept in. Whoops.
At five o’clock this morning, our neighbour’s dog was going crazy barking at something. Being a nervous single-mum she turned over and went back to sleep. At 07.00 a.m. her kids complained that they couldn’t sleep for the dog still going nuts. The brave mum then went to investigate what all the fuss was about. She opened the door a crack and in walked a cute little puppy. This craze has been named “Dog-Dumping” and is very popular amongst the natives who have a very cavalier attitude towards their pets.
Spain can in no way, shape or form be described as a dog-loving country. I have to admit they’re not all like that – only about 98% of them. I have a friend who lives in the mountains and one of his Spanish neighbours keeps chickens. The chickens have names and the dog is called “Dog”.
Over 600 words – that’s enough for anyone to read! BFN.