Sunday, March 18, 2018

Equilibrium restored.



Bob spends much of the morning reacquainting himself with Furry Fox.

Sophie plots mischief.


Back here in the village The Old Farmer reminds me that I'm driving him to hospital for his hip replacement operation on Wednesday morning. I reassure him that the chauffeur hadn't forgotten.

The Extremely Old Italian Farmer is sitting outside his front door enjoying the sunshine. Sophie rushes over to see him. He tickles her chin and laughs. I ask him how old he was when he came to the village from Italy in 1924. '' Sixteen " he replies firmly and without a moments hesitation. This would make him 110 which is improbable. 

As we turn for home we stop to talk to the lady married to the man who drives a large truck. It seems he was admitted to hospital last week with a stomach hemorrhage. '' He had nine bags of blood before the bleeding stopped " she informs me with perhaps more detail than was needed. I ask her what caused the problem. '' They took all the tests but they don't know. Anyway, he's coming home on Thursday ". Angus quietly hopes they take some more tests and come up with an answer.


In the afternoon Bob and Angus watch Scotland play Italy at rugby. The Italians lose by two points but should have won.

In the greengrocers the first of the thick white asparagus.


Even better the first of the local Gariguette strawberries.


Those little things about life in a French village that are too unimportant for a diary but too important to go completely unrecorded.

The mystery of seeing things differently : http://www.scottishbooktrust.com/blog/writing/2018/02/writing-with-gaelic-a-bilingual-blessing



11 comments:

OJ said...

One couldn't help sharing the Italian pain, but well done, Scotland! St Patrick must be beaming this morning!

WFT Nobby said...

A most beautiful article about language in general and Gaelic in particular. As a language, Gaelic seems to contain more landscape than most, or is that because it persists most strongly in names for mountains, glens, lochs etc? My favourite restaurant in the Torridon area (admittedly the choice is not large) is called Gille Brighde - as a 21st century touch, the wifi password is oystercatcher!
Cheers, Gail.

Taste of France said...

Even if the Italian Farmer were quite young when he arrived in 1924, he would qualify as Extremely Old now.
First sign of spring: asparagus.
Second: strawberries.

Poppy Q said...

It is kind of you to take the old farmer to the hospital.

We love when strawberries and asparagus arrive - spring has arrived for you. For us it is cabbages, broccoli, apples and pears. Signs of autumn.

Coppa's girl said...

Furry Fox looks somewhat the worse for wear ! When did Sophie not plot mischief?
What memories the very old Italian Farmer must have, I hope someone makes a record of all that he's seen over the years. They are too precious to be forgotten.

Jean said...

I envy you your strawberries. The supermarkets here have those enormous, virtually tasteless Spanish ones, the ones that promise so much and deliver so little. To add to our misery, winter has returned, six inches of snow overnight.
Our neighbour in the village showed us a picture of herself taken with the other neighbour, Madeleine, on Madeleine's 100th birthday. She looks about seventy. Madeleine went to live in a retirement home when she as 106.
So maybe 110 is not that completely unlikely for the very old farmer. There are a lot of very, very old people tottering about our village, mostly eyeing all foreigners with suspicion and still using the outside loo in preference to their modern facilities!

Jean said...

When I say "here" I mean Derbyshire, although the rest of my comment refers to our village in France.
Living in two countries gets very confusing...........especially for us!

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari OM
As it's trying to snow, again, here this morning I still can't think in terms of spring - maybe I should look to see if there are any strawberries or asapragus at the store...

Language definitely relects and informs psyche - thanks for sharing that wonderful article. YAM xx

Pamela Terry and Edward said...

I tried to learn Gaelic.
And failed.
Such a beautiful, musical language.

Emm said...

from yesterday's comments: "Ah yes. And if I'd not gone unexpectedly ( and uninvited ) to dinner that night because I had an exam the next day ? Or 'The Font' hadn't fallen off a chair on seeing Angus ? Lifes choices."
Now tell us the rest of the story, please do!

~Kim at Golden Pines~ said...

I don't know Angus, age is really getting to be a number, just Google the name Sister Jean Dolores Schmidt who has been in our news here because of "March Madness."