Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Monsieur Bay and his two colleagues from the retired gendarmes association are on bus duty by the war memorial. We're greeted with a hearty '' Bonjour M'Ongoose. Bonjour Bhub. Bonjour Sofee ". At noon yesterday the three octogenarians observed a minutes silence by the war memorial.
Bob gets given a post walk rice cake . He holds it carefully in his teeth. Sophie tries to swallow hers to make room for another.
The Old Farmer sets off to Strasbourg in the ancient Peugeot. There is a court case concerning the yellow Mercedes lorry he sold to a man at an ' unbeatable ' price. It seems the man in Strasbourg is less than happy with his purchase.
As he drives away The Old Farmer reverses over one of his cats that has fallen asleep under the car. The result is not a happy one. The other cat circles plaintively.
At this less than opportune moment Loic, the heavily bifocaled gardener, arrives to blow leaves. He tells me a lengthy and possibly exciting story in his impenetrable accent. The PONs follow him round the garden unpiling leaves.
Angus digs a hole for The Old Farmers cat. When he returns to the house he finds 'The Font' waiting to head off to the airport. '' You're late today " says 'The Font'. ' I've just been burying a cat ' replies Angus. There is a sigh.
At the local 24/7 store ( well 8 til 8 on weekdays and 9 til noon on weekends ) there is a sign saying that due to the State of Emergency bags may be searched. The rather shy and retiring couple that run the store are unlikely bag searchers.
As a child in Scotland I can remember islanders wearing a black armband as a sign of bereavement. A tradition that's long disappeared. The local paper carries on a version of it with a black band in the corner on the top of the page.
So starts a Tuesday morning. Events too ordinary for a diary but too important to go completely unrecorded.