The last of the wheat harvested. Fields of stubbly gold stretching to the horizon. Give it another week and the green sunflower shoots will be in full bloom.
In the market place the Tunisian woven bag sellers reappear. This year the Tunisian ladies have acquired a large red umbrella to shelter under. Bob is steered well away from the enticing display of shopping bags.
Another fun filled Saturday night. Three ladies in yellow stockings, yellow
shoes, yellow dresses and yellow berets (Les Kanarys) perform a variety
of 1940's songs on the the Salle des Fetes stage. Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy meets France profonde. They are accompanied on the organ by an
unsmiling man wearing a yellow
feather boa over his black patent leather jacket. He has a look to him that says 'I'd rather be
anywhere else than here'. This is a
sentiment I can sympathize with. The 'Kanarys' click their fingers,croon,smile and twirl.
On the gravel in front of the church, the Village Fleuri Committee have set up a barbecue. The committee Chairman deals with his anger management issues by throwing the faux filets onto the fire and then retrieving them with the aid of an over sized pair of iron fire tongs. Every so often a pillar of sparks fly into the air and he swears loudly. The Gordon Ramsey of the barbecue world. A resplendent Madame Bay is there in layers of white chiffon. A poster girl for net curtains. She tells us that for the 'Grand Bal Disco' a machine has been hired that blows foam over the revelers. We leave before it's switched on. The sight of foam covered waltzing octogenarians will have to wait for another year.
13 comments:
Hoping the white chiffoned one steered clear of any flying faux filets...
Les Kanarys for the evening's entertainment..wow Angus I know you were squirming in your seat.
I'm still trying to get my head wrapped around a foam machine (used at many youngsters fetes here) being used at an older folks fete in deepest France profonde.
I for one will sing and dance and wear yellow if Caroline does not return. Will you be able perhaps to advertise in a nearby village for another cleaner? I hope you find an ideal person with impeccable manners and loves dogs no end.
We shall ask on the grapevine for a dog loving cleaner without 'issues'.
I can visualize the whole thing. When the foam hits the floor, so will the dancers. How did you happen to,decide to live in this village? Love the pictures of the doggies.
Does Sophie have an inexhaustible supply of doo-doo's - or is that the original one in all it's pristine glory? We bet the flying furry fox doesn't look quite so immaculate after she's savaged it - and her brother.
Oh dear, a foam machine and octogenarian dancers sounds like a recipe for disaster....
This is our first fun filled Saturday night in your village. I have so many thoughts, questions, and comments swirling in my head right now! However, I will hold it down to one question: are the sunflower seeds sowed after the hay is harvested; and how do they bloom so quickly?
Foam and the elderly or intoxicated. Sounds like broken hip time to me too. But harder yet to imagine is you and the font dancing through the froth on a hot summers night.
It was 'demur' foam. Not Ibiza party type foam.
Sunflowers come after the spring wheat. They grow incredibly quickly.
That is a pristine one from the hardware store. Every other customer goes there for parts for their tractor , Angus goes for doo-doo's for Sophie. She hides them in the garden. Heaven only knows where. The lady at the cashier desk now calls me by name. That is truly embarassing !
Fate brought us here.
She appears fine this morning tootling past the gate in the Wild Child voiturette.
Never a dull moment! I love reading about the next adventure.
Post a Comment