Humans may think seven am is early but for two healthy Polish Lowland Sheepdogs it's not. There's a garden to patrol, an orchard to guard, blackbirds to chase and a laurel hedge to explore. All of this before breakfast !
We have two local papers. In our absence the less conservative of the two has written an article about the 'swaying Jesus'. This is along the lines of those National Enquirer stories about miraculous visions that appear in cinnamon rolls at Denny's. The little lady in the purple hat is quoted as saying the statue 'spoke' to her. A stricter editorial policy might have settled for 'creaked' rather than 'spoke'. A small but constant trickle of the overly devout and the merely curious now stop and park by the churchyard.
As the sun sets Angus appears in the garden with a bottle of St.Estephe and two glasses. ' The bees are busy tonight ' says Angus. " That noise must be a tractor " says 'The Font' before adding " Inside! Quick! It's a swarm ". It is. Thousands of them.They head in a dense black cloud up the hill and settle as a thick blanket on the sun warmed bricks above the terrace. Bob and Sophie, who are napping, are ordered inside. For once they do as they're told.
That was "interesting" says 'The Font' as if escaping from swarming bees is something that we do every day. So ends another 24 hours in deepest, deepest France profonde. ''
10 comments:
Oh dear, we suspect that the little lady in the purple hat is rather enjoying her 15 minutes of fame ! We wonder what the statue "said" to her, and will she become the village authority on any future utterances?
7 a.m. is a trifle early to wake the world - it's half an hour later in our house !
The evening scene in the garden with the St Estephe was sounding so appealing until the bees arrived...
We had a swarm of bees some years ago. At breakfast on the terrace, we said, "well, the bees are sure happy today!" Later, working in the garden we noticed there were an awful lot of them flying about. I snatched up our kid, who at the time was a toddler, and bolted for the house, quickly shutting all the windows. We called the fire department, who asked whether they were bees or wasps. As if we had dared stop to enquire of them. Les pompiers said they couldn't do anything about bees, only wasps. So we called beekeepers. Not easy, as it was a Sunday. Finally got one on the phone, but he whined that he was about to watch a rugby match and couldn't it wait until several hours later? We managed to pry him out to save us. He smoked them into passivity, got the queen (turns out there was a hive--it must have been made pretty fast because we didn't see it before--in the tree above our breakfast table) and most of the bees followed her into the bee box. Our savior was in for some good acacia honey!
There may be quiet moments at the Rickety Old Farmhouse, but there is certainly never a dull moment.
That would have been a sight to see - all those bees!! I bet the tone of voice was the reason the lovelies took at going inside. Sometimes they just know when you mean business.
I once lived in an old house in New England where bees had gotten into the walls and made honey. You do not want them to take up residence at the ROF, not even if you have Winnie the Pooh to help out.
The end-of-day in the garden libation sounds quite pleasant, sans flying visitors.
Is there ever an uneventful day in your village, I ask you?
angus...
this is just a shot in the dark. i have followed you for a long time and know your love of dogs.
i am hoping you can know of someone who could give teddy a forever home.
his story is here. http://lostinarles.blogspot.com/2016/04/do-you-want-to-adopt-teddy.html
they won't allow any international adoptions so he can't leave france. please spread the word for teddy.♥
Tammy J - I shall ask around
Tammy J - I shall ask around
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