Thank God for small voices and smiles.

A kind lady in America has sent some Jelly Beans and books to The Rickety Old Farmhouse. They are delivered in the morning post. On the way out of the door to Loics mothers funeral some small voice tells me to go back inside and pick up the bag of Jelly Beans. Thank God for still small voices. The Jelly Beans prove invaluable. Loic is clearly aware that something unusual has happened but  is unsure how to respond.

The bag of Jelly Beans keep Loic silently engrossed through the sermon - a tasty diversion that allows the funeral service to stay on track. The internment a sad although well attended affair. The officiating priest sets the tone by telling us that this is his eleventh funeral this week. He then goes on to add '' but it's no less beautiful for that ". 

After the service, sensing the kind words of well wishers are overwhelming him, Loic and I go to the cafe facing the church for a coffee. He has some vanilla and strawberry ice cream. He informs me ' Mummy's very tired but now she's happy '. I find myself agreeing. For what it's worth I tell him she was very proud of her strong, brave boy. On the retelling this seems saccharine and patronising but at the time seemed to be as honest and true a thing as has ever been said. Loic is also told he can drive the garden tractor the next time he comes to blow leaves. His broad smile lights up an otherwise drab day.

On our way home the phone rings. '' Could you come and pick me up ? " . It's The Old Farmer. He is ready to be discharged from the hospital. The surgeon has suggested that he go into a care home for a few weeks to recuperate. The Old Farmer has firmly ( and not so politely ) declined the offer.

In the afternoon Bob stands on his stump seat and watches as the venerable silver Mercedes heads slowly down the lane. Behind the wheel one glad to be home old man.

And so passes another day in a French village when 'nothing' happens.