went to this deserter nun’s house and saw the digs she had to offer. the place is very nice but there is a tiny family staying in the proposed flat. i don’t like the idea of displacing someone, but gran says it doesn’t matter, because the it’ll just go to someone else.
after showing us the proposed flat, the ex-nun ushered us through her door and took us on a tour of her quarters. she has a grand total of four balcony’s and every one of them was locked, barred and barricaded. but she wanted to show us her plants, so each bolt was undone with a great deal of fanfare and then promptly shut again after we caught a fleeting glimpse of some despondent greenery.
to a query from bigma about the tenants we may de-house, she jumped up from her chair, shut the grilled door, the wooden door and then the curtains, seated herself conspiratorially close to us, and whispered in a barely audible undertone, .. ar.... uh ..... ver...... gurhhh ...... pul......mainte ....sss............. doubt.
from what gran got, the man refused to pay his maintenance and so she wants him out.
from what i got, the man is a shipwrecked salesman who wants to be a orange macaw.
before we left, gran had already made friends with the dustbin lady, the watchman and the ground floor owner(all in the space of five mins) besides evincing a keen interest in the wild palm growing at the entrance to the building and chokeholding(in a manner of speaking) the ex-nun to a promise to provide her with a cutting as soon as possible.