Saturday, October 31, 2020

A large pile.

The first full day of the lockdown.  Angus prints out and distributes 'Attestation de deplacement derogatoire' to the older villagers who don't have computers. The new mayor is supposed to have come round with these travel forms but the printer in the town hall office has chosen the start of the confinement to have a 'moment'.

The Font has ordered three thousand litres of heating fuel just in case we can't get the tank topped up again this side of Christmas. Fuel deliveries are not covered by the lockdown but there have been rumblings of staff shortages at the refineries. The delivery driver rather enjoys the restrictions. ' There are no cars on the roads so I can get my route finished nice and quickly'.

Angus has calculated that in a direct line the stream is less than a kilometres away . By road its probably double that but for the duration of the lockdown we will be using 'as the crow flies' measurements. This enables Sophie to get down to the waterfall to drink, fish for minnows ( ineptly ) and watch the dragon flies flitting  backwards and forwards. Afterwards she wanders along the old roman road to glare at the farmers goats. The goats seem oblivious to being glared at.

Loic, is gloriously unaware of the lockdown. The matron of his home phones to say that as far as she's concerned his work is a 'deplacement pour motif familial imperiaux'.  She roars with laughter as she says it. Loic enjoys the ride on the garden tractor and the matrons delighted to get at least one of her charges out for a couple of hours. This morning he blows the leaves into a very large - and for Sophie very satisfying - pile.

I've just started this. A reminder that every generation thinks that things will never get better - and yet somehow life carries on.

Have you ever seen an orchestras musicians sway as much ? :


WFT Nobby said...

Just when we thought those minnows were safe. They may be thinking you should adopt a 'distance by road/track' interpretation of the one km rule.
With severe gale force winds and heavy rain in Aberdeen today, Bertie and I won't be venturing further than Duthie Park. At least there's the Six Nations rugby on this afternoon. (And a mountain stage of the 'Vuelta'for cycling enthusiasts!)
Cheers, Gail.

Linda said...

Imagining Duthie Park on this stormy day, Gail - it was the park of my student days in Old Aberdeen. The municipal daffodils used to adorn the windows in the female block of my hall of residence (Dunbar Hall, now sadly demolished).

Linda said...

Is the attestation not a triumph of French bureaucracy over reality? i.e. you could put down n'importe quoi as the reason and the truth of it would be hard to challenge. Smart move of The Font on the heating oil.

Lisa in France said...

Loic is fortunate that the matron is such a wise woman. Definitely a win-win-win approach.

Poppy Q said...

We will miss the croissants.

Susan said...

I like the sound of your current reading material.

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari OM
1942, if I recall, is the year America tried to cancel Halloween because so many kids were now unsupervised due to parents being otherwise occupied - then came up with the idea of a neighbourhood watch type of thing that involved groups of kids under one supervisor dressing up and knocking the doors of their street... enter 'trick or treat'!!!

That same storm of Aberdeen is ravaging these western shores - like a washing machine outside the Hutch's windows. YAM xx

Hailey and Zaphod and their Lady said...

Stay safe.

The Bougalou Bear said...

Linda is spot-on! The downside, of course, is that this same vagueness is what allows the gendarmerie to arbitrarily give you a €135 "prune" (french slang for fine) should they so decide.

The Bougalou Bear, who, whith spectacular timing, landed in Paris on the morning of Oct 28 to visit her mother, and now finds herself in lock-down in Lyon