My knees ached, my back felt broken, and my lungs had given up, well almost, as I had been trying for two days to clean the creosote off the floor. Luckily it lifted the green paint that was still clinging for dear life onto most of the floor, so it was not too bad take it off with some rough sandpaper, but I was now left with a bare cement floor, and it was a bit flaky, unable to be painted. Luckily the co-op was not far, and they adviced me to use some stuff to bind the cement, and it worked wonders. I was all the time looking for someone who would like a casual job helping me, but all the men were working on the apple farms, and the rest couldn't get away fast enough from me wanting them to work, as they live on the dole money that was just about enough for their wine, so I realised that I would have to do all the work myself. I could have gone a lot faster if the creosote fumes would just get a bit better, but the guy at the co-op, who laughed a lot when I told him about it, gave me the bad news that it would be about two years before the fumes would go away.
When the binding liquid was dry, I started on the walls again, as I had decided to paint over the creosote until it gave up and not come through the paint anymore. By the end of the weekend I was fatigued to the bone, but the walls had only a slight sign of the creosote, so it was with a lot more cheer that I drove back to George.
I was back on Tuesday, ready to start fixing the walls in the main house, as my poor chest was congested and sore from the creosote fumes. I started in the sitting room by taking off all the loose plaster, but it left such big holes that I was at quite a loss as to how to get the cement to stick to the empty spaces, as the more cement I put in the holes, the bigger the heap on the floor got. I then got the hosepipe from the irrigation connection to wash out the loose dust, as I knew that was the reason the cement wouldn't stuck. The pressure from this pipe was awesome, and I blew away most of the plaster still sticking, and a lot of the wall itself. I then took a plastic bucket to get some small stones, as I was going to fill up the holes with them, and fix it with cement. It was warm, and I was sweating when I had enough stones, but the bally bucket decided to expire, and the whole bottom fell out! I was using some unmentionable words while walking back to the house for another holder. By nightfall I had the one wall fixed, and I was actually glad that I used the strong water to blast out the dust, as I found that the three inside walls's clay bricks had almost disintegrated completely, leaving mostly dust kept intact by the plaster. I was really proud of my day's work, and although My hands were swollen and  bleeding from working with the cement, I went over to Sheila where I was staying the night, feeling quite optimistic.
The next morning I woke up with a kind of a hangover, but as I only had three glasses of Sheila's gingerbeer, I couldn't understand it. I was happy, as my wall I did was still intact, and  I sang quite lustily, if untunefully, when I heard something like branches broken, and on investigation found that the gate had been pushed open. The breaking of branches sounded as if coming from the other side of Irma's house, and wondering what kind of a being or beast was felling the trees, I weaponed myself with a long tarred pole, and gingerly crept to the corner of the house for a peep. Got one big shock, as there, his nostrils flaring and his huge jaws tearing down the branches from a fully laden peach tree, the fruit just ripening, was the village Don Juan, the big brown and white bull! I was aghast as he was ruining the tree, and although I was shivering from fright, I brandished my tarred pole around and started shouting :shoo, shoo!' at this thing, but when he suddenly dropped a branch and glared at me with his red eyes, I took the easy way out, and ran! I had no idea as how to get the bull out, so I left the gate open for him to leave after destroying all our lovely peaches, but as umpteen other beasts tried their luck to sneak in also, I had a busy day keeping our places safe. Later that day a small boy, not older than nine, asked me if he could go in and get the bull. I told him no, as the thing was dangerous, but he just laughed, so I followed with my tarred stick just in case! My eyes nearly popped out when I saw this child give the huge rump a pat and said : 'come on, home with you!', and this thing meekly walking out of the gate with the youngster at his heels.Waau! Did feel a teeny bit silly, but consoled myself that I was quite new at this rural thing! By sundown I had finished plugging the holes in the walls, and kind of plastered it, and although it was not the best job I had ever seen, I was SO proud, and was actually looking forward to doing the kitchen! But first back to my flat tand civilization to buy some more stuff!