Orford to Butley through the woods in the rain.
Haven't written a word since - too busy hiding under the covers with a stash of
tissues and laudanum reading up on natural (and other) disasters, which always
cheers me up.
My flatmate's awesome mother stayed in the London flat while I was away -
awesome because she scrubbed every room from top to bottom and transformed it.
The bath sparkled, the walls shone. And then she cooked goulash and left in the
fridge for me. I've never met the woman (I have spoken to her on the phone, but
as she speaks no English and I speak less Magyar they were short conversations)
but I want to hug her.
I should explain that the flat was a cheerless wreck when I moved in – It had
been trashed by previous tenants and needed to be steam cleaned over two days
before I could move in. This left many corners of grime and dinginess to tackle
and smashed fittings to repair, but as I was in a plaster cast at the time, and
trying to catch up at work, mush of this wasn't tackled at the time.
Redecorating was postponed while we chased an insurance claim against the owner
of the flat above us, which seems to spring a leak every second month. And we
got used to the lime-dulled taps and streaky walls.
It took a skilled and determined woman to put us straight.
Mrs. Ambrus, I salute you. And your goulash rocks.
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