Yes, there are eight kittens and a mother. They all live on the ox track that abuts The Rickety Old Farmhouse and have taken to climbing onto our upstairs terrace and sunning themselves. This morning they can be found dozing snugly on the garden chairs. Sensing the angelic duos approach they clamber up the trellising and stand staring from the safety of the wall. Seven are shy. One ( there is always one ) tries to out stare the PONs. The arrival of these unexpected guests has turned the PON morning noise level up several notches.
Garden cleared of intruders we head off along the lane. Sophie stops, turns, and glares at her laggardly brother. He's found something under one of the plane trees. She wants to head off to the stream. Faced with a glare big brother dutifully picks up his pace.
Despite the early hour the old church in the little market town is the scene of a wedding. That most European of all sounds as the bells chime away. As we leave the bakers a couple drive up to the church porch in a open top Ford Mustang. Of all countries in Europe France seems to be the one where Ford Mustangs are a thing. The young lady from behind the bakery counter comes out to see what's going on. Seems the couple had their civil ceremony yesterday and are squeezing in a church wedding this morning before the scheduled mass. This works out well as the choir and the organist can earn a little extra money. 'The grooms from Clermont Ferrand' says the bakery girl with a tone of voice that suggests this is the height of big city exoticism.
PONs and owner detour across the forecourt to investigate. The car is decorated with sprigs of blossom. This is the first time I've ever seen a car festooned with flowers . Presumably they drove to the church very slowly.
We stand at the door and peer in. The old church is so ramshackle that wire netting is strong from the pillars to catch any bits of masonry that might fall off the roof. We listen as two violinists play '' In the bleak midwinter " before the happy couple take their vows. Perhaps the tune is set to different, less seasonal, words in France.
On our way back to the car Bob de-threats the two front tyres on the bridal Ford Mustang. In the universal scheme of things this should be taken as a sign of great good fortune.
Sunday art : https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Sculpture-FENNEC-FOX-DOG-STAR/68761/1284558/view
6 comments:
Gosh I hope this kitten thing is not going to get out of hand...
Toodle pip!
Bertie.
PS Gail was once told that Clermont Ferrand is considered to be the Birmingham of France. Is that right?
Hari OM
not so much the blossoms, more the netting that would worry me for that car! As for Fennec - hmmmm, museum piece? Okay. On my shelf? Nope. YAM xx
Those kittens need a constant eye kept on them, or they'll be taking over the ROF. Bob and Sophie need to keep matters under control !
Somehow I was expecting a vintage Ford Mustang, but that's what comes of marrying someone from Clermont Ferrand !
Was Fennec one of those cardboard cut-outs, that came with a guide to join up the dots and it's own tube of glue?
Cats. They always choose the house that will cause the most annoyance to dogs. The felines always seem to choose our garden for their night visits.
It is "kitten season" here and it lasts until about October. And kittens can have more kittens at about 6 mos of age. Just the kind of news Bob and Sophie will love to hear!
Bob and Sophie are not taking this development calmly ... or quietly !
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