Sunday, September 7
We got up late again and had brunch. I changed the sheets and Irma washed them. I got a mail from Juha telling me that my thesis would now officially go forward to examination. Unless there is an unforeseen disaster the writing is now officially over.
In the afternoon Irma did a lot of mowing and I swept up a lot of grass. The we realised how sunny it was, and Irma suggested that we should use up the outdoor paint rather than storing it over winter. I spent three hours painting the underside of the roof: the lip that overhangs the house and has a brown wooden bottom. Or a white wooden bottom as we say nowadays.
This was hell until I remembered that we had some paint rollers and thus went from pouring paint on my head whle getting a bit on the roof to painting the roof with next to no mess at all. It looks immeasureably better and lighter now it is done.
Now I am outside Alepa, looking across the main road at the new block of flats that is rapidly rising where the pizza shop and bar used to be. The bar was there, in several incarnations, for about five years and I never went in it once. Probably because Irma and Auo went there exactly once, and vowed never to return.
I have just got a carton of milk and am about to cycle home.