The mountains, freshly snow covered, turning purple as the sun rises. Last week the fields were tilled and brown. Now they're green with winter wheat. A lugubrious heron flies overhead. A dog owners rhythm of life. We head home. Bob is a brisk walker. Sophie is ethereal, forever pausing to take in the view or smell the last of the wild roses. She finds a dead squirrel and trots along with it, head held high so Bob can see how lucky she is.
Out in the afternoon for a walk with Bob to the Belgian lady's house to hear her side of the dispute. She's happy, delighted, to have someone to chat to. For ten years she's been modernising her small house and turning what was a wilderness into a garden. All was fine until the land around her was sold to a riding school. Her idyll disturbed by cars dropping off children and using the driveway as a turning circle. The relationship with the riding school deteriorated. Tempers rose. Allegations of fences being pulled down by one side, of horse manure thrown over the hedge by the other. She unable to find a friendly ear. There's fault on both sides but the obvious solution is for the riding school to designate an area of land for car parking and for the Belgian lady to take a deep breath. The simplicity of this solution may be a pleasant conceit. Angus will need to have a chat with Monsieur Bay to see how to proceed.
Bob and Angus stop off at the cake shop on their way home. Some tasks deserve a high cholesterol reward. Bob gets some slivers of choux pastry.
8 comments:
Communication, sometimes that's what's needed. Will you be talking to the Riding School, as well?
As so often, there's more than one side to the argument. At least talking to the lady will not have done any harm and, who knows, may have helped find resolve the dispute (although we are not holding our breath). And Bob got some choux pastry out of the deal. Well done both of you!
Fingers crossed a simple solution will work and this doesn't become a long running saga.
Oh, and you've done that cake thing again..... I want cake !
Your post and mention of the fence reminds me of Robert Frost’s poem, “Mending Wall,” where two neighbors walk the length of their dividing wall each spring to mend whatever has fallen off. As they walk, the one neighbor repeats the phrase, “good fences make good neighbors.” One neighbor continues the ritual with his neighbor each year despite his own belief that mending the wall is a waste of time -- I hope the Belgian lady and the Riding School don't feel that way and can find a way (perhaps over something from the bakery) to mend that proverbial broken fence.
Profound wisdom displayed dans la France profonde! Felicitation Mongoose!
Oh Angus! Splendid job! Misunderstanding not mania. Frazzled nerves rather than failing ones.
The village's adopted son has performed his job admirably. Do enjoy an extra pastry. We're with you in spirit.
Your sunrise landscape photo is achingly beautifu! Like an Old Master painting:)
KB might be jealous of the snowy mountains. Congrats on being the town mediator.
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