Thursday, January 8, 2015
La France est en deuil.
Bob feels the need to stop and christen the bales of hay that the farmer has left in the corner of the cow field. Each and every one dealt with. The balance of a champion. He will not be hurried.
The outside world rarely imposes on our little corner of paradise but in the cafe the atmosphere is strangely muted. Only one topic of conversation. Eyes glued to the television set. It's as if the whole country has woken up to find that a little bit of what makes France special has died. An unspoken fear that 'someone' will cause yet greater mischief.
After the illicit half croissant we head off to the Italian delicatessen and then onto the fish shop. The duo sit at the open door and look in expectantly. They are disappointed. Not even a sprat. The fish lady does however tell Sophie she's beautiful.
When we get home it goes quiet. The reason soon apparent. Three rose bushes have been pulled out of the ground and chewed. Bob knows he's done wrong and comes up for a tickle. Sophie goes in search of something else to demolish. The rose bushes, or what's left of them, are replanted. One ( clearly the centre of a spirited game of tug of war ) is a goner, the two others may survive.
Who would believe that such gardening skills could lurk beneath these innocent faces ?