The PONs are up and about early in readiness for the best day ever.
At the supermarket a 1970's era Citroen DS is parked jauntily. The carefree owner oblivious to the relationship between lines and parking spaces.
Back at home Madame Bay is showing her sister from Paris the sloping cooker hood. The younger sister sports a duck egg blue velveteen suit with sequins around the collar. When it comes to dress sense the Bay family clearly have a shared sense of the remarkable. Madame Bays sister, being a worldly wise Parisian, dots her sentences with words like a-dor-ab-le , in-croy-a-ble and ex-quis-ite. Rarely has a cooker hood elicited such praise. Bob gets called 'mon pauvre petit garcon' . Sophie eye up the lace hanky that dangles from the velveteen sleeve. She is encouraged out of the kitchen before there are attempts to 'liberate' it.
'The Font' hears this sung outside an Irish pub in the Marais. The (mostly) young folk all seem to know the words. In the circumstances of the week a fitting if unexpected choice. In Scotland it was, and is in the western islands, sung as an alternative to Auld Lang Syne. A song of the Highland clearances and of long journeys.
It is more traditionally sung by this Dublin choir