Gerolstein: the season of 2015-6

I’ve been two weeks back at Gerolstein. And yes, if it’s Gerolstein … it simply must be spring. Kurt doesn’t do winter, or even autumn, in New Zealand. I must say that some ‘springs’ down here have, in recent years, strangely resembled those chilly seasons, but this year Canterbury is obviously trying to keep up with Yamba … the mornings are frisky, but the days are sunny and pleasantly warm, those vile winds have mostly (though not always) stayed locked up in their box … and Wendy has the place looking gloriously spick and span and on the verge of bursting into colour ..

The magnolia has been and mostly gone …

The cherry blossom arrived this week …

The first flowers are peeping out …

The rose gardens which survived last year’s floods are covered in red pre-leaves … they aren’t due to flower until Cup Week …

My alarm clock – or alarm-peaclock – and his sixteen brothers, cousins and uncles have caught the prevailing season and the air is rent with mating cries and post-orgasmic wails ….

The first foal is born …

And our only worry is – WE NEED RAIN! To make the grass and hay grow! So we can feed the horses. Ah, well. A farmer’s life… there’s always something … 

We’ve been here something like fifteen years now. And things have changed. The earthquakes and the winds have wrought a change in the landscape, and the outlook from my house – and even more from Wendy’s – is much less tree clad. But oddly that’s made things lighter and brighter ... if windier. Lighter, of course, means you see stuff behind the furniture and in the corners that you didn’t see before …

But oh!

The main furniture hasn’t been moved since it was put in place, on Day One. Bookcases, desks, chests … not even the two of us together can manage those. But yesterday …

We had to go to the vacuum cleaner shop for some bags (what a swiz those are!). The place has been earthquaked away from its old spot in the High Street so we thought, ‘why not see if Noel Leeming’s does them!’ (We like Noel Leeming’s and its nearer). And they did. So I bought two boxes: $38!!!!! And while I was doing so, Wendy wandered round the TV department. Cut to dénouement. $1,799. LG UHD 49 … I dunno. Dearest hoover bags I ever bought!

But. I said I would confirm when I had measured the space. I did. It was OK. The installer came and … arggggh! .. they'd given me the screen size! The bloody thing has splayed legs and they didn’t go on our telly-chest. Think quick! 

I have multiple desks and computers … desk .. desk .. we dragged one from its ancestral place .. mon Dieu! Quelle filth … and the installing fees rising by the hour ..

We let the delightful, helpful young man go after he’d sold us $400 upgrades, and sat down. It wasn’t right. Wendy got to work on discovering the mysteries of the machine, and I had an idea. Next morning, the pine desk was back in the office, and my father’s home-made desk was in the living room …

The old TV chest was in my bedroom (great!), and the C18th oak chest which had been .. in under the telly. I’m delighted … the room looks great! Well, I think so. I can’t stop saying so. And Mr P Cock came in to check that he approves. He likes Australian Masterchef.

Me? I’m down on my bony knees cleaning all the dank, dirty and dusty spots that have been brought to light by all that furniture shifting!