Friday, June 19, 2020
A hearty good morning from the family diva who has been out to check on the C-A-T on the log pile. In the wider world outside The Rickety Old Farmhouse the schools open up on Monday. The mother of the two tikes is once again smiling. The tikes are making the most of their last days of freedom by racing their motor bikes along the lane.
Angus has ordered more wine from Italy. As we leave the gate the delivery man is unloading a small pyramid of boxes onto the gravel outside. Sophie is told to wait while her master heads off to get a trolley to wheel the wine to safety. She sniffs the boxes in the hope that they might contain sausages. She's disappointed.
On our walk we pass the cow field. Some mothers have given birth. Others are swelling patiently and waiting for their 'moment' . Sophie decides to position herself so that Angus is between her and the cows. She has a 'You can never be too careful with cows' attitude to life.
The post lady stops. ' I hear you had some wine delivered from Italy '. A reminder that nothing is a secret in a French village. She adds that her husband is Italian. " Where from ?'' I ask. She knows that he's from Puglia but can't remember the town. This somewhat stymies the flow of conversation.
Some old plants in a trough in the garden have sprung into life. The buds the most remarkable shape and texture. For some reason blue things ( and orange things ) grow here. Anything else seems to keel over with the combination of heat and rain and the thick clay soil. Blue and orange make for an unusual planting scheme.
This , rather surprisingly, played on the radio as we headed back from the bakers this morning : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0mQQ_PtNQXU
The British Ambassador to France keeping busy : https://twitter.com/EdLlewellynFCO/status/1273568243588923393
Europeans seem to think it's seasonal : https://www.wired.com/story/if-the-coronavirus-slows-this-summer-it-may-be-time-to-worry/