Tuesday, August 7, 2018
Beware the barrenness of a busy life
The hottest day yet. The mercury touching 39 degrees. 'The Font' has been to the toy store and bought two shallow plastic toddler paddling pools. The PONs steadfastly refuse to do anything other than drink from them. We try separating the two pools to see if Sophie will use hers for bathing. So far no such luck. Bob believes water to be the devils hand maid and has no intention of getting wet.
The heat that has been building up has now turned into a dark purple haze that stretches across the horizon. A sign an angry storm is on its way.
The motorway jammed with holiday traffic. Thankfully, after the pay station our exit ramp is clear. What fun it must be on the motorway with long tail backs and a car full of arguing little ones.
The pineapples from the Ile de Reunion make a come back in the greengrocers. Angus buys three.
'The Font ' arranges for the chimney cleaner to come. It's suggested he replace the tiles on the roof. He clambers up willingly enough only to discover an enormous bee nest in one of the chimney stacks. The chimney cleaner comes down from the roof, refuses to go back up and tells us he'll only return when we've dealt with the problem.
The Old Farmer wanders over to see what's going on. He informs us that it's the anniversary of the day when his wife, eldest daughter and dog were killed in a car accident. '' I'm driving off to the cemetery. I'll be back this afternoon after a good long chat ". His good long chat involves a picnic chair, an umbrella a bottle of wine and two glasses. One glass he leaves on the grave. After the better part of nine years in a French village neither 'The Font' nor Angus think this behaviour to be in any way unusual.
The mayor knew a gentleman who was an apiarist but sadly he's gone to the great bee hive in the sky. Inquiries will be made as to where we might get help with the bees.
We used to have a flat next door to the Castle in Edinburgh, The crowds at Tattoo time were a nightmare. Start watching closely at the 5:40 minute mark and see the photographer walk backwards into a piper. Any lip readers are welcome to send their translation of what transpires on a postcard to ....