Ritya 15

The day ended as a washout.
It was raining when we woke and it was raining when we went to bed. Not nice rain, but drizzle that fell through fluctuating fog. There were brief spells when the splashes on the pool ceased for a while, but the air was so damp and chilly it precluded any attempt to get onto the roof and fit the last remaining capping tiles (6) or fit the last bit of edging metal (6 inches).

However, keen as ever to do something, the overriding thought in our heads was how many buckets were going to be needed in the loft. In trepidation we lifted he loft hatch crabbed through the large roof over the main part of the house and entered the now new and clean (devoid of rubble, bits of wood, and cast-off Bulgarian shoes) re-roofed (Angliski style) loft. Upon crawling round every nook and cranny, not a drop or drip was to be found, even despite the missing capping tiles. Up yours Milen!

For a couple of hours two smug Brits continued laying the 5cm Bulgarian fibre glass insulation, covering it with sossal proof wire netting and creating a walk through with the last few remaining lats up there. We were disturbed by a visit from Milen who I guess was hoping that we were in the loft clearing up water, but had to go away disappointed that the noise he had heard were Brits fitting the pointless insulation he had objected to. We stopped when we ran out of wire and lats.

After lunch of yet more cheese sandwiches, David drove into Dryanovo to fetch “stuff” and I added photos to the previous blogs and listened to music. When David returned I helped him unload the car then returned to inserting photos while David lay on the settee half dozing and watching bits of films. Nether of us felt the urge to do much, but both confessed at regular intervals to being bored.

Late in the afternoon I thought about making a masterpiece of culinary delight for the evening meal, but on thorough inspection of the various pantries, fridge and freezer I couldn’t get inspired by pasta, rice, sweetcorn, mushrooms and feta cheese. The cupboards were bare as was my creative juices. It was decided to go to The Bar. We were the first patrons of the evening but the place soon began to fill up. One family is worthy of mention. An extremely large and grossly overweight Bulgarian entered with his wife and two boys. Suffice it to say that we both expected a large quantity of food was going to be presented to satisfy such a large frame, but we were astounded to actually see how much they consumed. After already gobbling an amount sufficient to fully satisfy an average sized elephant a 2kg pizza arrived at the table with a large array of side dishes. At this point we left even though we were intrigued to discover what they had selected for dessert.

The drive to Ritya was interrupted with a stop for milk. On arrival we fed Banjo with bits that we had saved from our parsimonious meal, sat and watched “Gulliver’s Travels” and then rolled into bed.

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