There's a hole in...

My roof. Somewhere. Unfortunately, I have no idea where.

It all started back in the spring, when we arrived in Nowhere-in-France to discover that water had been dripping into the kitchen via a little recessed window . Or rather from the "ceiling" of the recess.

TH, who is very handy and competent, went up into the roof void above the source of the drip. This was no mean feat, given that within said void there was a deep covering of ageing insulation material..you know, the type that makes you itch, cough and worry about long-term lung damage. So, we dressed him up in overalls, gloves, coat and cap and covered his face with a fetching purple-and-pink tie dyed scarf for which I had no further use (no doubt you can understand why, from the description) and he climbed up to conduct his investigation.

After some time and a lot of banging about and rich language, he descended and declared that we needed to sally forth to a nearby DIY emporium to purchase remedial supplies. A temporary fix was achieved, and TH made a list of materials required to bring back in order to complete the task on our next trip.

When we arrived here a few weeks ago, the weather was accommodating enough to rain on us and allow TH to don his fetching outfit again and take himself and his building materials up into the roof void to complete the repairs..

It turned out to be easier said than done. The leak refused to desist, and yet more expletives drifted out of the small trapdoor in the roof. A further bout of rain did little to un-dampen TH's mood, but then...oh joy! It appeared that the leak had been stopped!

TH went home a couple of weeks ago, since when there has been no further rain. Until last weekend, that is. I awoke to drizzle, and set off mid-morning to meet some friends for a coffee, returning at midday to find a small pond on the kitchen floor. The leak had moved about half a metre to the left, and drips were dripping (as drips are wont to do) from various places in the kitchen ceiling. In a lucky coincidence, earlier in the week my pet bucket had given up the ghost, so I had bought a brand new buckety-bowly thing, but, as another downpour ensued, I ended up adorning the kitchen floor with a combination of buckets, bowls, pans and, eventually, a wok. As the rain grew heavier, it sounded as though a bunch of deranged chimps were forming a steel band in the kitchen. Any momentary lapse of concentration on my part when walking to the fridge resulted in an almighty din and the sloshing of water from various receptacles onto the kitchen floor.

Luckily, it's dry again now, and although I don't mind the occasional shower, my frantic phone calls have galvanised TH into booking a flight to come back and make another valiant attempt to effect repairs.

If news of rain in SW France reaches you, please spare a thought for me. Apart from anything else, it will mean that I am unable to stir-fry....


IMPORTANT P.S: To all the lovely people whose blogs I follow..
Owing to the poor quality of my current Internet connection, I am finding it almost impossible to open and read blogs at the moment. I am missing being able to keep up with you all, but would like to assure you that it is is, rather than laziness or lack of interest, that is keeping me away.