Monday, January 23, 2017


Sunday morning. Off to Toulouse. If we get there before ten there's no problem parking. Having waited for the statue repairing builder we're running half an hour later than usual. We finally find a parking spot behind the cathedral.

Sunday mornings in French towns strange affairs. As if a neutron bomb has gone off. The streets deserted. 'The Font'
window shops and looks at a sculpture of a herd of bulls. Thankfully, the gallery is closed.

The bread stall doing a roaring business. Now we know why the streets are deserted. The French can all be found in the market buying things for Sunday lunch.

Back in the village a large bus arrives. It's bringing all the special needs children from the home in the small market town to the Salle des Fetes for lunch. The children are taken out somewhere different every Sunday. Angus is once again amazed by the professionalism and love of the young carers. No hint of irritation or annoyance at their charges wild antics. A disco has been set up in the village hall but the children are soon spilling out onto the village green. Organized chaos. Their laughter fills the air.

Over the weekend I heard the words of a eulogy given for a very young and very brave Medecins sans Frontieres doctor who died in Syria. The eulogy given, in glorious and passionate and loving French. " There is such a thing in moral philosophy as the aesthetic category of the sublime, as applied to the highest mountains, raging oceans, the night sky, the interiors of some cathedrals, and other things that are superhuman, awesome, limitless. In this case it describes a life of a surgeon, a son, lived in the open. A man less concerned about his own life, and more concerned with others ". These young teachers and carers tend towards that category. Seeing them makes me hopeful.

Sophie is told that she can't go onto the village green and join in the dancing. It would put too much stress on her leg. She clearly disagrees.


  1. Sophie, your time will come. Those wonderful young carers will surely welcome you joining in the dancing.

  2. The children will love to meet Bob and Sophie.
    We see something similar here, with special needs teens and young adults, and their carers who are young themselves. They bring them to local cafes on the seafront for an hour or two. Their concern for their charges well-being is touching and there is always much laughter.

  3. Maybe they'll return when she's ready to dance with them!

  4. Beautiful observations about the carers. I found the same kindness among those who took care of my parents. The elderly are perhaps even more difficult to care for--bigger and heavier than children, the bottoms that need to be wiped aren't cute, the future isn't as bright. I have nothing but admiration and gratitude for those who take on such a tough job.
    We were in Toulouse at the start of the soldes. A sea of humanity everywhere we turned.

  5. Ohhh look at sweet Sophies face.

  6. There must be hope. Hearing of the dedication and sacrifice of these carers, there is good reason for hope.
    The sculpture is intriguing.
    Sophie knows that she was born to dance.

  7. Is Tuesday Sophie's final test day for her second surgery? Hope all has mended beautifully!