Friday, March 7, 2014
Our Swedish cheese slicer succumbs to metal fatigue. Head and handle irrevocably separated. En route to the airport a quick detour to get a replacement. Purchased and paid for in just over three minutes. Life, however, provides an added twist to this simple little tale. Who would ever have believed that the wonderful people at airport security would consider a cheese slicer to be an offensive weapon ? It is confiscated and placed in the transparent bin of shame for all to see. '' Hey Brenda ! Come over here and see what some idiot tried to take on the plane ". For a moment Angus toys with the idea of highlighting the improbability of a middle aged business man storming the cockpit brandishing a blunt cheese slicer but thinks better of it. Humour and airport security incompatible companions.
Bob and Sophie are waiting at the cafe in the arrivals terminal. ' The font ' has relearnt the lesson that the surest way of keeping the little angels well behaved is to sit at a table with a view of the pastry and sandwich counters. Dogs, like toddlers, are better companions when the prospect of 'cake' is dangled in front of them. Bob once again demonstrates his skill at opening the sliding doors by waving a large hairy paw in front of the motion sensor.
Wonderful weather. The forecast says it's going to stay like this for the next two weeks. Home in time for Sophie to clamber onto the table and eat the post and for Bob to go down to the waterfall and dive ( unsuccessfully ) for fish.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Off to London. A room full of identical men in dark suits. A very dull, humourless, masculine, affair. " Angus. Mind if we conference you through to New York ? " says the most senior ; a tall American with slicked back hair, marble sized gold cufflinks and a suit that fits just a tad too snuggly to be entirely gentlemanly. Angus briefly toys with the idea of saying he does mind about being conferenced but the man is already shouting '' yellow ! - yellow !! with ever increasing fervour into a video phone. There is no hello in reply as the video phone remains resolutely dead.
At the airport lounge a magazine with a photograph of a man in a kilt . Something to do with the Academy of Country Music awards in Las Vegas. The man is wearing his kilt flashes in his boots, not his socks. A sartorial innovation too far ? Perhaps this video should be viewed by all those who feel the need to wear the kilt outside its natural habitat - the Highlands.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Why do you wait for something to happen ?
And while you're PONdering that here's a somewhat lagubrious link to the featured song on todays Radio Nostalgies 'Hits of the 50's' hour.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Down to the cafe under the arcades with Bob and Sophie. The roast chicken lady has returned after three weeks away in hospital. This morning the locals and their dogs are lined up to welcome her back. Sophie is in one of her exceedingly talkative moods so we hurry past two Jack Russells, a Labrador and a Terrier.
The Moroccan basket men have also returned. They've brought with them the new seasons collection of woven shopping baskets from Marrakesh. Their sunny presence another sign that France profonde is stirring into some semblance of activity after the long winter.
Bob swallows his portion of the mornings illicit half croissant in one. He then turns towards the piece that his sister has only partially eaten. One of her icy stares makes him think better of it. He lets out a sigh while she slowly and teasingly finishes off her remaining sliver of pastry.
Here's an interesting link to an article about How the Blind Dream.
Monday, March 3, 2014
The mornings lighter, the skies brighter. Spring is definitely on the way. Perfect weather to be outside in the garden from dawn til dusk. When Sophie gets tired of digging she just clambers onto the old garden table and has a restorative nap beside her brother. Gentle snoring allowed.
Of course the real sign that spring is on the way is the arrival of the pan pipe men at the market. Today there are two of them stamping their feet, waving their feathers and bending their arms in some approximation of an Andean dance. Sophie is mightily impressed. Her enthusiasm may have more to do with the swaying feathers than the music or the funky chicken dance.
And here is something uplifting with a hint of Jimi Hendrix to it to get the pulse racing on a Monday morning :