The Dobre Life

Melon Anne
Eek! ANOTHER melon!

I had a little go at jam making the other day. Elena had given me a bag of plums from their garden, and instead of simply adding to the mountain of slowly decaying fruit we have here, I thought it would be fun to try jam. After rummaging around online for a recipe and rejigging my storage system to free up some jars, my plan came together.  I was on a roll! Fortuitously there was a little man in the centre of the village selling 2nd hand jars, so yesterday – with some more help from Elena – I tried fig jam.

Helly: What are you, Barbara from the Good Life?

It was flippin good though. It’s just a shame I can’t do the same with the three massive great water melons that we have been bequeathed. Or the zillions of

Washing Line

grapes that have ripened simultaneously across the village and are being brought round to us as little gifts. Having said that, they go down rather well with a hunk of blue cheese, of an evening…

The other exciting news is that we now have a washing line stretching between the house and the other side of the garden ON PULLEYS.  I love it, pegging things out and gradually squeaking the clothes along until they’re dancing about 10ft off the ground.

Mother: How very 19th century!

Ivan has been having problems with his Lada. Ever since the rains came – those that brought the frogs with them – a damp seems to have got into the works and none of the car’s electrics are doing what they’re supposed to. The lights aren’t playing, the windscreen isn’t being wiped and the alternator has apparently stopped, erm.. alternating.

Ivan discovered yesterday evening that the car didn’t want to start any more either, too late to organise another mode of transport for their evening at Elena’s mum’s. So in exchange for their unrelenting generosity we lent them our car. Ivan, proudly dressed in his finest threads (white Levis and his favourite London t-shirt from Mrs L) looked very much the part yesterday evening as he set off for Tsarevo with the steering wheel on the wrong side of the car.

J: Maybe it’s the car, but didn’t they look a little bit English just then?

Back in the day when it started...

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