Jute

The  village teenagers, stranded at home due to the lockdown, spend much of the afternoon hurtling up and down the lane on their motorbikes.  They race from the 'T' junction at one end of the village to the 'Y' junction at the other. It isn't so much the noise ( although why French motor bikes don't have silencers is a question I'd love answered ) but the fact that none of them wear helmets that Angus finds irresponsible. This incomprehension of teenage recklessness and inability to follow rules another sign I've turned into my father. 'The Font' takes the view that we should be feeling sorry for the parents who face another three weeks of school closure . No wonder they're keen to have their offspring out of the house and racing, helmetless, through the village.

The Old Mayor stops his car to let us know that he has had his second jab. He and his wife drove down to the medical centre yesterday and were given their doses by the young doctor who plays in the local rugby team. ' A bit abrupt but he was efficient'.  They were allowed to go in together and neither has had any pain or discomfort since. The mayors wife has had umpteen hip replacements and there was some nervousness about how she would respond to the vaccine. If anyone reads this blog in a hundred years time it should be noted that this news is relayed to me with childlike happiness by our octogenarian neighbour . Joy amid a pandemic.

Another sign I've turned into my father. Some new door mats are delivered. When did the world of plain jute matting become so hip ? Generations of PONs have slept at the front door - nose out, rump in - on these dirt absorbing products but only Sophie gets to sleep on turquoise  :https://hay.dk/fr/hay/rugs-7e0ae5e6/door-mat