Tuesday, January 21, 2014
People generally see what they look for and hear what they listen for.
A man with a Lenin beard accompanied by a morose lad in blue overalls arrive to take down the Christmas lights on the town hall. The man with the Lenin beard parks the truck with the hydraulic arm while the young man slowly lays out a row of bollards. Satisfied that everything is in order they then disappear into the cafe under the arcades for an early morning libation. When we drive back into town at eleven o'clock the truck is still where they'd left it but there is no sign of the two 'operatives'.
Here, in the village, the Old Farmers Christmas star glows merrily away. This year the stark simplicity of the star has been augmented by three rows of flashing lights, two in colour, one in white, which have been wrapped around the railings on his balcony. There is no sign that the star, or the twinkling lights, are about to come down.
'The font' has headed off to Paris. Bob and Sophie will be having bacon, sausage and egg for dinner. Sophie seems delighted at the prospect, Bob seems to be less sure.