Off to China...

I have begun The Search. Pipes, drains for the precious water system, Blackwater (shit) and Rainwater (fresh almost) exist somewhere in the olde courtyard. The Veolia inspector person indicated they ran adjacent to the new ancient kitchen. Sure. And, of course, the ONLY fault in our entire dye inspected system was MY connection of the olde kitchen's sink to the rainwater downpipe from the roof. Seemed convienent. Damn. So I have begun The Dig. I have "sign", an old rusted bottle cap at 12 inches and a fragment of a plate found about 16" under the surface. But no sign of an actual PIPE carrying actual shit. I have three tools for this project, 4 if you count me. A 6 foot breaker bar, a square tipped shovel and a gardening hoe-type tool. I chose a spot between the kitchen and where the effulent comes out of the showerroom and disappears into the ground at some oblique angle. Who knows? This could take a while especially at the rate that I dig.

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The front window painting exercize is going forward while I lurch dirt into the pile in the courtyard. Kelly is scraping away, it's looking better as she goes. She is also painting the coffee table black that I have set up in the courtyard on metal sawhorses. She says she is in her Black Phase, guess so.
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No Lean came out of the kitchen to examine the courtyard with me in it. She ringed the area sniffing here and there and chewing whatever vomit-grass she could locate. That promises a little wet surprise somewhere real-soon-now. Nice...cats.
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The language lesson yesterday at A&R's went off pretty well, embarrassment was at it's height as no one there other than A herself can say much in Francaise at all. We all listened attentively at Don as he gave some language theory and explained verb endings to his languid class. Remember, these are all native English speakers, it is 6pm nearing dinner time and their brains are challenged by French no matter what. Mine certainly is. We yawned a bit, listened intently and had a generally swell time. Next time we are at the teacher's house. He wouldn't accept our payment either so we decided to pool the monies and do something wonderful with it when this exercize has reached some natural ending. Buy the teacher a nice bottle of scotch and a straw was one suggestion.