20th May 2024

Ritya is a small village well off the beaten track. It is usually very peaceful, untouched by through traffic or the din of the modern world. During the day, you might hear the occasional bark of a dog, the cackle of geese, or perhaps the distant buzz of a chainsaw. At night, the cries of jackals on the hunt and the steady chirping of crickets are usually audible.

Yesterday, we spotted several vivid green frogs in the nearly empty swimming pool. Last night, they created such a dreadful racket that I had to resort to earplugs before I could get to sleep.

We were both up early. The day was warm and overcast, and it remained that way throughout. We had reclaimed the garden from the wild last December, a month of hard, and sometimes painful, work. Since then, nature had begun to creep back in. Weeds had sprung up through the patio paving, the gravelled areas, and around the pool. Fortunately, their roots hadn’t yet had time to dig deep, and a good tug was usually enough to pull them free.

David powered up the petrol strimmer to tackle the larger growth, while I, wearing gloves, focused on pulling out the smaller weeds growing around the shrubs and plants that he and Genya had planted. Banjo sat nearby, watching us with a bemused expression.

Several barrow-loads of weeds had been tipped down the lane before we paused for lunch, a simple meal of salad, cheese, and ham, washed down with a glass of Bulgarian lager.

We hadn’t seen or heard a soul all morning, but just after lunch, we heard a taxi arrive. It was Mark, who lives across the lane and had been away at the coast for a few days. We didn’t stop to say hello, and he didn’t call in to see us. The afternoon continued much like the morning, and by 4.30 p.m., we had worked our way right up to the edge of the pool.

Next, we turned our attention to mixing weedkiller in a watering can, though frustratingly, we couldn’t locate a rose attachment to help sprinkle it evenly over the patch just outside the gate. As a change of pace, David began pruning the twisted hazel bush while I popped a lasagne in the oven and some frozen chips into the air fryer. We ate our meal outside, beneath the shelter of the wooden barn roof, and finished with yoghurt drizzled with honey.

Still unable to find the rose, David poured the weedkiller as best he could over the offending patch. Afterwards, we took Banjo for a short stroll next door. The neighbouring house and barns have stood derelict ever since David and Genya bought their property, but since Christmas, a great deal of clearance work has been done. We went to investigate and discovered a mini-digger parked at the rear, suggesting the job is still ongoing.

By seven o’clock, we decided to call it a day and headed inside. The evening was spent chatting and browsing the internet before we eventually drifted off to the Land of Nod, lulled to sleep by the chorus of little green frogs.

21st May 2024

The forecast promised a hot, sunny day, so we rose early and were hard at work by 7 a.m.

We began by clearing the area to the side of the pool, once home to a small fruit orchard. Sadly, several of the trees hadn’t survived the four-year absence since David and Genya last visited. One cherry tree had endured and was now heavy with ripe, juicy fruit, some of which we later enjoyed with yoghurt at lunchtime.

Most of the weeds in this area came up easily with a firm tug, but one creeping variety proved especially stubborn. Its long runners, wrapped in a coarse, abrasive outer layer, scratched at the skin and resisted even the strongest efforts to pull them out. They are truly vicious; brambles seem like child’s play by comparison.

Still, by midday, we had removed all the unwanted plants and consigned them to the ever-growing pile down the lane. It was rapidly becoming too hot to carry on, so we sought shade and enjoyed a lunch of jacket potatoes and salad.

For the next three hours, we remained indoors, sheltering from the afternoon heat.

Later in the day, we returned outside to mix more weedkiller and apply it to the weeds around the gate and parking area. The house has two water supplies: one from the well, and a more reliable source from a borehole located beneath the crazy paving at the front of the house. When we visited in December, the borehole system had been shut down, and until now, it hadn’t been tested. Thankfully, when power was restored to the pump, it sprang to life without issue. This borehole also feeds the swimming pool, which we drained three months ago. David gave the system a proper test by using it to water the fruit trees.

We rounded off the day’s work by fitting piping to redirect rainwater from the barn roof guttering into a water barrel. Pleased that we’d completed everything possible, we headed indoors for an evening meal of Mexican omelette and chips, once again accompanied by a refreshing glass of Bulgarian lager.

Thunderstorms were forecast for tomorrow night with another hot day, so we planned another early start.

22nd May 2024

We were up and about by 6 a.m., pleased that it was overcast and not raining.

I began clearing weeds from the barn, which still lacks a roof, while David started to strim the vegetable plot at the back of the house. However, he didn’t get far before the strimmer’s starter pull cord jammed and refused to turn the engine over. Together, we dismantled the attachment and discovered the return spring had broken. We spent the next hour attempting a repair before I left to finish clearing the barn. Once done, I sprinkled the floor with weedkiller from a watering can fitted with a makeshift rose fashioned out of an old plastic bottle.

David, meanwhile, continued his battle with the petrol strimmer, first attempting to cannibalise a chainsaw mechanism as a replacement, only to find it didn’t fit, then trying to turn the motor over using a drill. Eventually, he gave up. His next idea was to use a petrol mower to cut down the weeds, but that too failed; he discovered a hole in the fuel pipe.

By now, it was midday, the sun had emerged, and the temperature was rising. I had finished the task in the barn, so we paused for lunch, a delicious banitsa (cheesy pastry) that David had picked up earlier when making a run to the petrol station for fuel.

After lunch, the humidity rose as clouds built up ominously overhead. We retreated indoors for a three-hour siesta before heading back out to tackle the vegetable plot the hard way. David borrowed a scythe from a neighbour and, in the oppressive heat, we hacked down the weeds and carted them away by wheelbarrow. Lightning began to flash in the distance, but thankfully, the rain held off, allowing us to complete the destruction of Mother Nature’s little nightmares.

As the storm drew closer, we took shelter under the wood barn to resume work on the strimmer. After another hour of fiddling, we were finally successful, the strimmer spluttered back to life and ‘puttered’ away happily. David returned to the vegetable plot to deal with the stubborn patches the scythe couldn’t manage, while I prepared the evening meal.

The rain that had threatened all afternoon finally arrived as we sat down to eat, accompanied by an impressive show of lightning and thunder that rumbled on for several hours. Once the storm had passed, David went back out and finished off the strimming.