One morning while Adrian was away, I spent two hours in Starbucks. The aim was to work on my book, a la J K Rowling. I started my writing, only to be constantly interrupted and/or remember there was something I had to do.
Firstly, I texted one of our nightmare tenants, Amanda, about whom I was to write an entire book (the second in my series). I reminded her I hadn’t forgotten her and would follow her to the end of the universe etc. (for the two and a half thousand pounds she owed us), I texted Adrian to reassure him that the stifling bureaucracy and anti-business attitude he was encountering that week in Spain in his dealings with the electricity company go back at least to the year 1500 according to a Spanish history book I'd been reading, I answered calls from two student tenants with problems, I set up appointments, including one with our painter, Alan, I ‘phoned my teenage son, Tom, to check he was okay at my mother's and I BBMed my daughter, Avril, with instructions and arrangements for the afternoon.
My routine was being thoroughly disrupted; that afternoon I also had to go to a student house to deliver keys, the next day I had to go down to where the painter was, to give him instructions, Thursday I had to move people into another house and organise tenancy agreements and I had to put out the rubbish which was not my job, but Adrian would wipe the floor with me if I forgot and he came back from Spain to full bins.
On the whole, I’d been tackling just a couple of the things that Adrian usually had to deal with… combined with my usual motherly role and my writing. It was easy to see how Adrian got ratty, because it was not an easy business, and while I was keeping things afloat in Wales, he was having to deal with some of the even more annoying nonsense in Spain.
Still in Starbucks, I also answered a call from our electrician Paul regarding sockets in another house and while he had me on the 'phone he asked for my advice on whether to ignore a 300 euro speeding fine that his son's friend had been issued with after a trip to Spain…
As I wasn't sure about the best course of action, I later went on the site, EyeOnSpain, to find out what others thought. It was the first time I'd posted anything on the site and I was met with some advice, coupled with a torrent of personal abuse by idiots who hadn't even read my post properly. A couple even told me I was a shameful and disgusting mother for trying to get my son to not pay a fine...
I couldn't believe the venom in some of the posts. The EyeOnSpain team had to censor a lot of it, because several posters were complete misogynists. The thread was put on the weekly Digest, read by thousands and so over that sunny weekend, I'd be walking the dog and keep hearing a ping, whenever another of these foul missives had been sent. It was a real eye-opener and gave me an insight into how you feel when you are anonymously bullied on the internet by shameless and ignorant cowards.