Sunday, July 29, 2018
A Druidic baptism ?
Bob is in get up and go mode.
His sister seems a little subdued ...
.... presumably because she knows her brother is going to come and bestow a kiss on her. For some reason he does this every morning. Always the same spot on the side of her head, a couple of inches below the eye and a third of the way along her muzzle. Sophie receives the peck on the cheek with long suffering indifference .
Although it's early there is some sort of gathering outside the village hall. A man is holding a baby in a shawl. The others look on adoringly. Perhaps they're all going off to the Holy Well for some sort of Druidic baptism ? I shall ask the mayor the next time I see him. For whatever reason it is a small miracle to get several dozen French folk up at six thirty on a Sunday morning.
The bakers display does little to excite.
We end up buying two of the small strawberry tarts for lunch. Bob and Sophie share their masters croissant, drink noisily from a bowl of water and observe a balloon blowing across the bakers patio. So starts the best day ever.
This is very French. Is there something incongruous about playing the harpsichord barefoot ...... in a palace ? :