Friday, March 18, 2016
Medals will shine.
An overcast start to the day. It threatens to rain. Sophie appraises the weather before heading out of the front door. Her impatient brother waits in the shadows.
A busy morning for the mayor. Workmen arrive to install a new sign on the tarmac outside the church. A list of 'must see' things in the village and a map showing the whereabouts of the Holy Well, the 16th century pottery kiln and the roman road. Passing pilgrims will find it invaluable.
The mayor hangs out the three little flags on the war memorial. It's the anniversary of the end of the Algerian War in 1953. All the local farmers, or those of a certain age, served in Algiers as teenagers so for them it is a big day.
The Old Farmer loads his stainless steel tea urn into a wheel barrow and rolls it across to the village hall. Tomorrow, he and twenty or so of his old comrades will line up in front of the war memorial in their blazers, berets and grey trousers for a commemoration. Medals will shine. The mayor will say some inaudible words and the Marseillaise will be sung. After wards they will all retire to the village hall for a glass or two or three of home made wine. Madame Bay and the ladies of the Beautiful Bye ways Committee will serve cassoulet.
We buy more Gariguette. Not quite as sweet as they should be but not bad considering they're being harvested a full month early.
Tarocco oranges from Italy. Another seasonal delight. The morning juice literally tasting of sunshine.
We've reached that stage of the year when summer is fast approaching.