Saturday, March 4

 

 

Naa stayed yesterday and we all slept late. Irma has had a severe head cold for several days, Naa has been working hard, and I got home from work last night about 21:45.

Earlier in the week Naa noticed a few drops of water forming on the living room ceiling. Irma called a man from the insurance company to inspect it, and his subsequent report suggested that we need a new roof for reasons that the house insurance doesn’t cover. Natural wear and tear: that sort of thing.

Yesterday, at home ill, Irma called a roofing company who sent two men with flipcharts and thick brochures. They inspected the attic, declared a new roof necessary, and gave Irma an unwanted and unnecessary “multimedia presentation” until she threw them out.

This morning I crawled into the attic wearing a forehead lamp to see for myself. Apparently you cannot mend a little bit of a tiled roof of the kind we have. You have to take all the tiles off, put in new lining, and then put all the tiles back, replacing the two or three that might have cracks or bits missing.

I inspected the place where the lining had come undone and peeled off, and straightened some of the planking for lack of anything more relevant to do. I returned dirtier than I had left.

The snow continues to fall, more lightly today. As I walk through the garden a lonely lantern catches my eye. I pick up my iPad and return to take a picture. The snow will continue to fall all afternoon.

I will vacuum-clean. The others will go shopping. Sunshine will wander in and out. The light will fade.

Naa will stay for dinner and then catch the 97V home. Irma and I will watch a new series on television called The Coroner in which three generations of single women battle crime in a small Cornish village.

Irma will begin to plan a holdiay in Cornwall.