Preparation and water-based concerns

Of course, it's extremely important to ensure that the pool base is utterly pristine, with not a sharp nibblet in sight. Kevin and I spent nearly an entire day armed with shovels, trowels, dust pans and brushes, removing the slow creep of the land from the outer edges of the circle of blue liner. It became apparent that the blue liner had become quite weathered and fragile, possibly damaged by the repeated drenchings from chlorinated water, so up it came, and there began the re-perfecting of the sand layer, which is on top of a sort of plastic-coated chicken wire layer. We knew we had the perfect sized tarpaulin ready and waiting to replace the weathered blue one, as the original central section of the pool cover had ripped away from its perimeter section during one of our wild storms, leaving a fortunately-sized large silvery disc. In addition, when we were sorting out the hayloft, we came upon two plumptious rolls of black, cushiony material, and we decided that they might provide a rather conveniently soft and protective layer.

The unrolling of the black cushiony material took a degree of bravery, as, over the years of being buried under ancient implements, it had become home to a diverse community of bugs. I let them emerge slowly and scuttle off into the surrounding long grass.

The base of the pool consists of a vast clockface or alethiometer of fifteen cemented-in stone slabs, upon which rest the fifteen legs of the pool frame. They are all exactly level with one another. Kevin likes to use a long section of metal to sweep around the clockface, like a giant minute hand, to ensure an even surface. And time passed. Evening was pressing in when we completed the great levelling.

Look at the gnarled state of it! There wasn't quite enough of the black cushiony material to cover the entire base, but we figured that the weight of eleven or so tonnes of water on top of it would squish it anyway. Not a very pleasing situation, but tolerable. And, eventually, the water began to flow. We'd been a little concerned about our water pressure since our return, as it had always been so powerful, but we discovered two flyers in our post box yesterday, warning us that the water supply would be off on Wednesday, then again on Friday last week. Well! We still had a water supply, but it was just less forceful. We have to turn down the 'bar' force of our mains water in the cellar, as it arrives at about 7. We limit it to 3 bar. (This could all be baloney, as I'm just repeating my inner translation of what Kevin has told me, and he could, conceivably be making it up. And I could conceivably have not been listening very attentively.)

We enjoyed a brief wine-break before tackling the outer shell of the pool.

I'm always the one who has to get into the cold water to iron out the last of the wrinkles with my feet. The difference between the cushiony bit and the plain sand was actually quite remarkable, but I don't think it will be once the pool is full. 

And then, after two days of filling, the pool is very nearly there! We have hot weather approaching, so the pool will heat up quite rapidly, I hope.

In order to make our life bearable up here in the hermitage, erecting the pool was a priority, but taming the land is the key task. All of the mowers and strimmers are now working, well, the ride on mower works, but only in short bursts. There's something not right in the area of fuel supply, so it keeps cutting out unless you keep putting the choke on and off, or 'playing the choke' as we call it. We paid quite a bit to get it serviced last year, and don't want to do that again after so little use. We have a limited budget! Therefore, we have succumbed to the power of the scythe. Raking up the cuttings is arduous, and the compost heap is about half a mile away on the top field. I've grown to really hate this journey through long grass with that ridiculous tippy barrow. The real barrow can manage, but it's such a long way! Running the gauntlet involves navigating cruel sharp grasses and a leaping insect shower. And there are snakes.

The vegetable patch and pool area is now surrounded by parched stubble.

Kevin has volunteered to mow the top lawn. He rarely gets a chance to use the ride-on, but I'm happy for him to cope with the 5 foot grasses. It hasn't gone well, so far. I've heard a lot of swearing, and he's accumulated some new insect bites. 

He's wearing my hat again... I think I've lost it.

Last year, presumably for complex meteorological reasons, none of our apple trees flowered. Thankfully, this year is different. We weren't here for blossom time, but it's a relief to discover that we shall have apples and cider this year! There are also a lot of plums and some late cherries. I can't get anywhere near the peach tree yet!

It's always satisfying to beat the wasps to the fruit. There don't seem to be any wasps this year. This year is a fly year.

There have been some water-related incidents. Firstly, our lizard, Harry (after Death in Paradise) fell into the filling pool. He was swimming, but I don't know how long for. We fished him out with the pool net, and he promptly disappeared in probable shame into one of the breeze blocks.

The second incident is ongoing. Kevin is determined that we need a pond on the terrace under the unmovable water spout. He's already installed a pump so that water can be circulated. He's bought lots of pond equipment. I've never been sure about having a pond right next to he kitchen and outdoor eating area, mainly because of the risk of mosquitos. 

We've recently been interested in the little 'tadpoles' in the black bucket under the spout, but, after a little curiosity-based Google search, we found out that the 'tadpoles' are mosquito larvae! We also have a trough by the vegetable patches containing these little visitors, AND in the animal feeding trough on the path to the barns! We're not so worried about that location, as there are fish, newts and frogs in there who may be happy to eat them. I'm not sure how this story will end, but it hasn't ended well for the mosquito larvae in the black bucket and vegetable patch trough; we added a few drops of Fairy, and, voila, dead. We've never had mosquitos here before last summer, but, this year, Kevin and I have already been bitten several times, and they're the biggest, itchiest bites imaginable! 

Time to bring in the cushions! A bientot mes amis!