Tuesday, the 2nd of October

Early Tuesday Greg drove me and the pups out to the house in Pateley before going to work.  We planned to spend the day cleaning, going through paperwork for the move and getting organized for the rest of the week.  It was also my job to make some phone calls.  I was really dreading it because I didn’t know for sure what information I needed before making these calls.  First call was to the water company to change the bill into our name.  It was HORRIBLE.  I couldn’t understand anything the lady on the phone said to me.  Over and over I asked her to repeat herself.  It was so embarrassing.  Finally she said it veerrrryyyy sssslllooowwww…  ‘Whut. Is. Yur. Da. O. Ber?’  uhhhh...  OH, my date of birth?   Then she proceeded to ask for numbers that I have never heard of.  It was just awful.  I finally gave up and said I’d call back when I got all the right information.  I was afraid to make any more calls.  I just don’t speak the language!

The day only got more embarrassing after that. 

Around 2pm I noticed a water company truck pull into the gates.  Oh, I forgot to mention, since the house is right on the reservoir the property is actually owned by the water company.  So we have water company trucks coming and going all the time checking on the dam.  This time I saw through the window the guy getting out of his truck and coming to the door.  I stepped outside to meet him.  His name is Peter.  So far all the Brits I have met are Peter.  He welcomed us to the neighborhood.  I asked him if he knew the history of the house and he shared quite a bit with me.  It was built around 1900 as two separate homes.  The larger part was for the dam engineer while the smaller left section was for the dam keeper’s family.  After the engineer moved out the larger section became a Bed and Breakfast run by the dam keeper’s family.  And for awhile the large living room was used as a board room for the water company.  They would have banquets and the dam keeper’s wife would cook amazing meals for them.  About four or five years ago the water company decided to convert it into a single family home and rent it out.  I think there may have been a time there for awhile that it set empty.  I’m hoping to stop by the museum in town someday soon and get more detailed information. 

After we spoke and said good-bye I turned to go back into the house and realized… the door locks when you close it.  I’m standing there in my stocking feet without a key.  I had spent part of the morning going through the spare keys and making sure all the windows were locked and secure.  The cell phone is inside, not that that matters since I don’t even know Greg’s work phone number yet.  I am completely stranded.  Peter asked if I had another key hidden… not yet.  He offered to give me a ride to the base but I didn’t have my ID card and it was possible that Greg could be coming home at any minute.  Again, how embarrassing!  But Peter was such a gentleman.  He offered to stop by the base front gate and get a message to Greg. 

I had no idea how long this would take.  It had been drizzling and cold all day but thankfully right now it had stopped.  But the ground was very wet.  I curled up on the front porch under the ledge and prepared to wait.  Then I realized I could kill some time by walking across the dam.  There is a sign saying that’s not allowed, but I figured at the moment I’m the only one around, who’s going to see or care?  I walked in my white socks on the wet dirty ground all the way across the dam.  It’s pretty amazing.  The water is really roaring through the river side.  And I walked back.  I had just gotten curled back up in a ball on the front porch when Peter comes back. 

He had gone to the base and passed a message to Greg, then decided he should come back to the house and give me his coat.  He gave me his coat!  He drove all the way back to give me his coat.  What a nice guy.   Then I curled back up at the front door, a little warmer, and waited for Greg to arrive.  Thankfully when he did he didn’t look too angry.  Apparently getting a message from his assistant that the police are calling about his wife makes for good story fodder.