Please finish this well known phrase or saying. The words bird and worm generally fit.
Only today it was a case of the early mosquito catches the bird.
Today was chores day in the JCR household, driving to the south of Le Marche to collect a jacuzzi cover – yes the heavy ones that thump when you move them around. Our old one has had enough of wind, rain, and forty degrees of sun, and now leaks like a sieve, which means each Spring when we return, I don wellies/flip flops and empty it of water and dead bodies, and then have to clean all the gunk out. Of late, the gunk has got worse and the jacuzzi cover looks like something you’d find in Steptoe’s yard.
Mr JCR had measured, we’d provided the model number, and in one of those six degrees of separation moments, had found the original manufacturer of the cover via a friend. What could possibly go wrong? Well it is Le Marche and sometimes our grasp of Italian gets us in trouble (especially when it’s technical and over the phone), the fact that we have a convertible car, and we were proposing transporting the cover via the back seat of the car, with the lid off. Oh and it’s a journey of more or less 200kms on a round trip. If the cover was not made precisely, then it might not fit in the car. Couriers are ruinously expensive here, Jeff Bezos’s Amazon revolution on home delivery is long awaited, so we really needed the cover to fit.
Our long suffering friends N&A will know that this is a favoured mode of transportation in the JCR household. We’ve moved outdoor tables in Italy using precisely this method, and to their credit actually having the cheek to use their car, (as we only had a little hire car at the time). It’s also very useful for Christmas tree transportation too.
Time for the JCR family to replay their version of the Beverley Hillbillies, with me riding lookout/shotgun like Granny Clampett. Critically, the temperature is officially scorchio and so it was important that we were up and early, so that when transporting the cover, we didn’t actually fry to death during the long topless drive home. Avoiding the midday- afternoon sun was vital – as the mercury has been touching forty degrees – yes that is over one hundred in old money.
Hence the alarm went at horrible o’clock and Mr JCR nudged me into action, well a sleepy, moany, grumbling heap. I was out of the door at 6.30am, I haven’t done this since the last time I was working and gosh my mood isn’t pleasant at that time of morning. Nonetheless today I had a plan, to see if I could run my ‘usual’ route and actually climb the incline on Laundry Lane – all to see if my ‘hill training’ had worked.
My warm up walk took me to the top of the Slope of Hope and I had my first encounter with a mozzie. I’d risked looking at our garden near a bit in shade, and sure enough got ‘gnadged’ . With my naturally sunny disposition coming to the fore, I swore and decided I better get a move on and see if I could out run the mozzies. I turned down Mill Lane, and heard the tractors out, there’s a lot of harvest work going on, so it was busier than I expected. No-one in sight, at this hour I’m ahead of the usual crowd, and off I trotted into Lovers’ Lane, ahead of me two ladies and four dogs. Having an audience when you run is both a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing because it makes you stick at running and not get tempted into walking or pausing, but it’s also a curse as you can end up speeding up in a vain attempt to look super fit.
Needless to say I fell into the latter trap, and zoomed past them waving cheerily, did my customary loop of Villa Bali and was running back, at this stage they’d stopped and were looking at me, so the bravado continued and I held in my puffing and panting as I re-overtook.
Around the corner, common sense took hold and I slowed right down back up Mill Lane to give my lungs catch up time. And that was all the dratted mosquitoes needed, another ‘gnadge’ to my left leg and I’d fed a hungry family of mosquitoes for another day. To add insult to injury, I digested a bug of some description too. Maybe that is insect karma, you provide blood for some and you then get to eat one in return?
Trotting down the Slope of Hope, all was quiet and my legs felt alright, but I’d already drank most of the contents of my water bottle. At this time it was 22 degrees, and still just before 7am. This told me today was going to be unbelievably hot, and so I made my way towards Laundry Lane. I passed our friends house (R and P) – I now know they are an owl and lark couple, so it’s fair to say P was probably still asleep, whilst R was route-marching up and down the stairs as part of her daily cardio routine. It gave me some impetus knowing someone else was up at stupid o’clock too, doing exercise. I discount Mr JCR here, as he is a long term offender and I have no idea how he does it.
This part of Laundry lane is mainly on the level, and it winds its way slowly up-hill , with a final kick of an incline. Even at this time there’s not a lot of shade to be had but there are some wooded areas that help. Laundry Lane is all book-ended (in my running mind) by another house we know well (our friends G&B). Only they sold it last year, so not so much of a reason for me to run past really. The heat was playing its part, my bites were itchy and the final incline was in sight. Old Granny Clampett made her way up the incline and finished right on Argo’s loop.
Job Done. It wasn’t fast and I’m not sure I could have run much more, but that frankly is down to heat and little shade.
I walked home, upsetting the beagles in the kennel, and the horrid, horrid, yappy dogs who give me a fright every time I pass. With my customary friendly greeting of ‘Why don’t you p… off?’ I passed them and trudged home.
Plant watering duty called, seven thirsty baby hydrangeas, two things called rock trumpets and my herb garden. It’s amazing how much you can get done when getting up early. The nasty ‘gnadgers’ got me one last time whilst watering my hydrangeas (that does sound slightly euphemistic), and so I had a trophy mozzie bite on my arm for good measure.
I’m sure Granny Clampett would have had a cure for them.
Did we get the cover home safely? Oh yes we did – despite the guys at the factory looking incredulous when they asked where our car was and we showed them. They disappeared quicker than you can say ‘Give us a hand’ and let us lasso the cover into the car.
All was fine, we took the back roads, it took forever, but Mr JCR was a star, nothing dropped, and Granny Clampett kept a look out for policemen. Getting the cover off the car, did provide an interesting moment as the dark colour had absorbed all that sun and heat.
Had the police caught up with us yesterday, they couldn’t have taken fingerprints, as they were all burnt off whilst moving the jacuzzi cover…, a favoured gangster move, so the guilty can’t be found. We’ve obviously become a lot more Italian.
The early birds got their worm after all.
Incline Run – yes
Best track – Chocolate Girl by Deacon Blue – getting up early meant this time I didn’t melt.