Bin day in Peel. Apaz. Still v cloudy out though not raining, fwiw. I’m still wearing my (prescription) Oakleys. People will either think I’m v cool or v weird.
Although we’ve been told it is bin day and we have put the bin outside the house there is no sign of anyone else in the cul de sac doing so and I’m wondering whether we were supposed to be wheeling them elsewhere. They are wheelie bins after all. Ah well.
So this morning’s story is I’ve managed to get in touch with Manx Petroleum and ordered 250l of fuel for the central heating. Gets delivered Thursday, if it is the will of Allah or Manannán mac Lir which is probably more appropriate for the Isle of Man. Also need to coordinate the arrival of “engineer” (plumber) as the system will need venting.
Another leisurely start to the day, particularly as my eight o’clock meeting was moved to ten which better suits all concerned. We found a tin of grapefruit segments in the cupboard so breakfast began with that followed by toasted Laxey sourdough, ripe avocado with walnuts, streaky bacon, egg and a drizzle of Belazu organic balsamic vinegar. V nice.
Peel seems to have moved on from the Easter weekend. The cars of those forced by circumstances to work for a living have gone from their parking bays in the Grove. Others, presumably tradesmen, have arrived to get on with their own task of hammering, drilling, sawing or whatever else they might need to do in the performance of their life’s calling.
Our lawn needs cutting but the lawnmower ist kaput or words to that effect. A gardener is due to come in and mow it but I guess that is very much down to availability and weather at this early stage of the growing season. Funnily enough we also need a new mower at home in Lincoln. Not sure it is worth buying another for Peel. Depends on how much the jardiniere charges I guess.
Notice how I naturally lapse into different languages seemingly without even noticing. Sworrapens.
Tonight is Royal India night. We are both very much looking forward to this. Lots of good memories of curry nights there. They were shut on the last two occasions we were here. Once due to paternity leave and the other due to something else. Holidays maybs. Everyone deserves a holiday once in a while. Recharge the batteries. Only problem with coming to the Isle of Man is we need to recharge our batteries when we get home 🙂
I am particularly looking forward to not having to wear sunglasses when I get home. I will pop into the local Cowley’s Pharmacy to see if they have any suitable cheapo/disposable specs that might do me as an interim job. Can do it after dropping a load of mail off at the Post Office. Our last lot of tenants didn’t appear to have left a mail forwarder in place. Some of the letters are from the good folk of the IoM Income Tax dept. Already paid mine.
The pharmacy is next to the Royal India funnily enough. RI doesn’t open until five though.
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The news from Cowleys is no way Jose. The cheapo reading glasses they have on offer are nowhere near the right prescription for me. I have no idea where this poor eyesight comes from genetically. Neither of my parents were as bad as this and nor were my grandparents afaik though I only ever knew one of them.
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All is calm at Fenella Beach, far away in Peel. A world away, in distance and in time.
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The front room is quiet. Just me and THG doing our own thing. Makes me think of mam and dad sitting here on their own. Dad was very lonely after mam died, no matter how often we used to call. The time came when a team decision was made for him to move to Cardiff to be nearer the girls. The end of an era.
The Davies family moved to the Isle of Man around 1974. Dad was just shy of being forty years old and in his eighties when he moved back to Wales. The island has been a big part of our lives as a family.