Thursday, December 22, 2016
The magical weather continues. Mid-morning the Old Farmer and the Belgian lady set off in the venerable Ford Transit motor home for Christmas. ' We're free spirits. Who knows where we'll end up ? " he says. Hopefully, somewhere with a garage that'll be open over the holidays thinks Angus. The Old Farmer beeps the asthmatic horn three times as he heads, slowly, along the lane. The Belgian lady is wearing a heavily patterned red and yellow trouser suit with the jacket edged in black fur. A mass of swirls. ' We had a carpet like that in Edinburgh ' observes 'The Font'. The Old Farmer is wearing his brown dressing gown that has been shortened to provide a warm, if unstylish, driving jacket. He is also wearing his green and white checked fur trappers hat with ear flaps.
Bob and Angus set off to the little waterfall. Some days Bob hurries along. Today he's in a sauntering mode. By Christmas the birds have usually picked the berries from the trees. Not this year - the hedgerows peppered with rose hips. Pheasant, partridge and quail everywhere. They're enjoying the sunshine and the late season bugs.
Sophie is not happy at being corralled. She spends her day in the kitchen advising 'The Font' on how to prepare the perfect Bechemel Sauce.
Frogs legs in the supermarket.
Capons also make an appearance. The locals have Capons for Christmas lunch. We tried it once but reverted to Turkey.
In the cafe Buche de Noel have swept all non-seasonal pastries aside.
Our Christmas puddings and Christmas cakes arrive. Just in time. Thank heavens for couriers. The 'new' Postman hasn't been out to the village since Friday of last week.
The Christmas nativity scene carved from a walnut is brought out and put on the mantelpiece. Amazing it's lasted thirty five years.
Quiet rhythms of life with one drooly dog and one feisty 'recuperating' dog in the run up to Christmas.