I've upgraded. I now live in a caravan instead of a tent. The other WWOOFers sadly departed on Sunday afternoon, but with every cloud there is a silver lining, this time being that the caravan was therefore vacated, meaning that I now have it all to myself. It's nothing to get excited over, it's a revoltingly naff caravan with fake wood and tacky gold tassels hanging from the lampshades but it's a definite improvement on the tent.
|Last meal together with the other WWOOFers, with our plates of boiled vegetables...|
So what more weirdness have I witnessed from Matthias and Patricia over the past few days?
Firstly, on Sunday morning, just before breakfast is about to be served, Matthias clears one half of the table, arranges a series of cushions on top of it, then announces he needs to do his exercises for his back. He then lies on top of the table, Patricia crouches below holding his leg, and he spends 15 minutes doing weird stretches on top of the table that we then eat at 5 minutes later.
Yesterday morning was on another level though. I walk into the house at approximately 9.15 as I do every morning, only this time I’m greeted with Matthias in his underpants. Imagine the skinniest man you’ve never seen, plus long grey hair and fuzzy wuzzy beard in tight man briefs. Tasty. Not quite sure where to look, and feeling just a bit awkward, I tactfully move to the opposite side of the room, however he starts talking to me, so I am obliged to look at him. Nightmare! Thankfully the exchange of words lasted little over 10 seconds; nonetheless the image of a half-naked Matthias has pretty much scarred me for life.
On the subject of Matthias, he made me cry on Sunday. He’d given me the task of cutting back the tomato plants, but it was actually quite complicated, as there were certain branches you could/couldn’t cut, and having Matthias watch over you is extremely disconcerting. Anyway, I just couldn’t grasp it, and he was just getting more and more angry with me, so I cried. Which I’m really annoyed at myself about because I don’t usually let people get to me. But since then he’s actually been really nice to me, so perhaps it was a good thing. He obviously now thinks I’m totally fragile and insecure and need to be handled with care.
I know 3 weeks ago I was complaining about the rubbish weather, but I’m now going to say that it is TOO HOT. Seriously, 30 degrees is really uncomfortable when you’re planting basil / picking strawberries / twirling cucumber plants in an unbearable greenhouse. I’m just too English.
I took the afternoon off yesterday with the plan to walk into Aspiran, the nearest town, find the boulangerie, and buy a pain aux raisins which I was craving after not having had one for about a month and a half. So I walked to Aspiran, which is about 25 minutes away, found the pretty town centre, found the boulangerie….and it was shut. Disappointment of the year.
|Sitting in this pretty park would have been so much better with a pain aux raisins in my mouth|
Oh, and despite what I said in my last post, the farts do smell. Obviously I wasn't close enough before.