Brighter and warmer.
The PONs are fighting fit and game for anything.
A mix up at the Salle des Fetes. A local granny is being given a 'surprise' 85th birthday lunch by her family. A quiet decorous affair.
The local hunters haven't bothered to check whether the village hall has been booked. At 2.30 they show up with three deer carcasses which they unload in the middle of the village green. The hunters expect to be able to use the kitchens to dismember them. The granny's family soon disabuse them of this notion. Angus is amazed at the virulence of the language. It would make even an inhabitant of the White House blush. When the French want to be rude to each other they take it to a level that Anglo-Saxons simply can't emulate. There is a 'heated exchange'. The grandmothers daughters give as good as they get.
The hunters finally pick up the carcasses and head off in convoy. They have the air of a group of mad as hell men who've just been out to vote for Roy Moore. They are not happy which perversely puts a smile on Angus's face.
The PONs are frazzled. They can smell the deer blood and hear the raised voices and the braying of the hunting dogs in the back of the hunters vans. I've never seen Bob and Sophie so agitated. Both of them seem to be able to sense violence. They remain on tenterhooks all afternoon. I call them in - they want out. When out - they want in. So it goes.
'The Font' returns. Bob and Sophie immediately shuck off the days worries. There is an 'emotional' reunion. Sophie is asleep by 9.00. Her brother does a last check of the house and then also heads off to bed. After we turn in he heads downstairs to be near his sister. His tail thwack-thwack-thwacks against the furniture as he goes. Normal service has been resumed.
16 comments:
This account of the altercation between hunters and the granny party is hilarious. The image of dismembering deer carcasses in the Salle des Fetes kitchen reminds me of a story told by an oil executive colleague who made a business trip to Borger, Texas and was perturbed by the sign in the motel bathroom forbidding the use of the wash basin for "preparation of game".
Cheers, Gail.
You have painted the picture at the birthday luncheon just brilliantly. Thankyou
The French do have something of a reputation for throwing their "all" into everything - including an argument ! Glad the hunters were sent on their way.
Don't think we'd like an altercation with granny and her daughters. Added a bit of spice to the party, though.
Hari om
The world in microcosm! YAM xx
Add to the situation that, in all likelihood, the hunters were drunk.
Some friends whose house is on the edge of the village, adjacent to the communal forest, encountered hunters on their property (whichis fenced in and marked with signs). The hunters informed them that the friends were (unwelcome) newcomers and that they had "always" hunted there, which gave them the right. Something I doubt, because the house is 30 years old and the previous owners had kids; I'm sure they didn't let hunters in the yard. However, it is a bad idea to argue with a drunk with a gun.
I'm glad the granny's side won.
I am also glad the grandmothers daughters stood their ground. And I don't think anything could make a certain white house inhabitant blush; that would mean that he has a conscious
Did 'the font' bring birthday presents for the PONS?
How disgraceful - grown men behaving like that and ruining an elderly woman's special day. Is there no decorum shame anymore? :( Glad the Font returned and helped the PONs get back to normal :)
decorum or shame, that is...
French hunters are pretty good at expecting everyone else know where they will be without any prior notice and that they can do whatever they like because that's what they've always done, while everyone else accommodates them.
It’s a birthday she’ll never forget..wow
It's probably wisest not to antagonize men with guns and an outsize sense of 'entitlement '.
Ladels at dawn !
Brilliant description, glad The Font is safely home, and agreed, there's likely no foul language that would make anyone in the current White House blush or be even mildly discomfited.
I can just picture this in my head, sounds like a scene from a movie. Did the font buy a Wolf cooker? Is it flaming woks in London?
Happy New Year to you both.
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