Angus is at the hypermarket at opening time. An hour of bliss as he talks wine with the sommelier. Some choices are abandoned '' Do you really want a 2011 when you can get a 2016 ? ". The relative merits of Pomerol and St.Julien are discussed. Pouilly-Loche is on special offer. A white easy drinking wine that is rarely seen. It was at one time ( before austerity ) served at large Buckingham Palace receptions.
On his way out Angus stops off at the shopping centre barbers. He has to go and talk to men in dark suits next week and he's developing his TinTin look again. A no longer young gentleman dressed entirely in black and with a ring through his nose cuts his hair. '' How anyone can understand you with that accent I don't know " he says with a joviality that leaves me stumped. Foreigners, in this deeply unfashionable part of France, are something of a rarity.
This mornings croissant is buttery, flaky and warm, 8.5/10.
The PONs are decidedly miffed to have been excluded from the wine buying trip.
There is a patch of sunlight on the study floor. The PONs are intrigued by this and tell me about it at some length. PONs it must be said are not quiet dogs.
We play touch rugby in the upstairs hallway. Bob charges after the ball and leaps on it with studied precision. He brings it back to me with his head held high. This is repeated three times. Then his sister gets it. She clamps it between her jaws, scurries down the stairs , takes it out into the garden and disappears with it into the orchard. That is the end of our game of touch rugby. Bob expresses his displeasure - loudly.
This is worth reading : https://medium.com/futuresin/2018-is-the-end-of-social-media-as-we-know-it-1e5658f41a5
10 comments:
Maybe it's another female PON thing. Cherry has never understood (or pretends not to understand) that returning the toy is part of the game (unless treats are involved). It's very frustrating for both of us!
It must be a female PON thing. Having said that Sophie will happily play catch if her brother is absent or asleep but if he's there no way !
What's wrong with looking like Tin Tin? After all, he had grrreat taste in dogs.
Toodle pip!
Bertie.
The Celtic TinTin quiff is not a look for after dinner speeches to foreign men in dark suits.
When we lived in NY, we went to a little Vietnamese restaurant on the corner, very good food. My husband asked what kind of wine they had. They took a bottle from its perch in the (west-facing) window. My husband asked whether they had any other bottles. Yes, in the basement, but they were old and probably expired, we were told. My husband told them not to worry, he would take one. He was quite pleased with it. He managed to convince them to save all the "expired" bottles for him and we became regulars there.
Wonderful ! Despite our best intentions to lay them down bottles seem to get drunk here before their 'expiry' date.
I had to Google TinTin...I did laugh..At least some of us are still using Social Media.
Looks like you and the Pons had a great game. We are looking forward to the rugby here on Saturday night. South Africa are often a worthy foe - we love a close game.
Are you off for a bit of spying again? Time to dust off the shoe/phone and the gun/pen to meet the men in suits.
I love the various things you find on the web and share with us - here is something mentioned in the Wall Street Journal on Ferdinand "Jelly Roll" Morton - the Black Bottom Stomp done by Wynton Marsalis. You're welcome!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzpzMYBmkHA
That pretty celadon-colored vase on the tippy table caught my eye, but now I worry that it'll be caught by rugby-playing critters. Glad your adventures in the wine trade worked out well.
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