Wednesday, March 18, 2015
The Old Farmer heads off at first light. Bob and Sophie are at the gate to bid him farewell. He beeps the venerable old motor homes horn as he passes the church. He reckons he can make it to Paris in eight hours. '' I'll find somewhere to park when I get there ". Both statements might be described a optimistic. For the journey he is wearing open toed sandals, black track suit trousers with white stripes, green check shirt and his fur trappers hat with ear flaps. Paris will be spared the string vest.
Departmental elections on Sunday. Posters have been posted on the town hall notice board. We pause on our morning walk to study them. Some candidates smile. Others look serious. None give a hint as to what their policies might be.
By the time we get back from our walk the builders are at The Rickety Old Farmhouse. Bob sits on his vantage point on the wooden table and eyes them up suspiciously. His sister leaps in and out of their van. She is found drinking from the paste bucket. After this she is banished indoors for a bath. She howls in frustration. Sophie is of the opinion that the builders are devoted fans who've comes to see her.
Aude, the bi-polar decoratrice, lies on top of the scaffolding , painting the ceiling while talking, contentedly, to herself. The builders don't seem bothered by this behaviour. They 'work around' her.