Monday, September 12, 2022

Moon reflection.


It's been four weeks since we left France. Twelve weeks since the unexpected offer for the house was received. Sophie has been completely untroubled by the experience. It has to be said that male PONs were not as easy to travel with.

Downsizing to a house a quarter of the size of The Rickety Old Farmhouse has had its challenges. We'd already sent a truck with pictures and sculptures to an auctioneer in Paris. Despite the paring back we've still got too much stuff so an auctioneer from Glasgow will be here this afternoon to see what else might be worth selling. We've decided that we'll only have bright, modern, cheerful things in the house. Large furniture can be sold off and dusty old portraits can be dispatched to the family . 

Sophie has  now decided what spots in the house are hers. These are invariably in places that cause the maximum inconvenience and require her to be stepped over. Suggestions that she might wish to move are met with willful deafness.


Town is humming. The university has sensibly decided that life will pretty much carry on as usual although the rugby club bar will have to close at two am in deference to the period of mourning. Students are reminded that festivities should be appropriate for the week leading up to a state funeral.  For many of the youngsters , who've suffered two years of Covid induced isolation,  this is the first time they can really get out and mingle. Letting them do so is sensible.


The church notice board is a master class in understatement. A small flag at half mast and the briefest of messages.


Last night the most amazing moon. Large and bright. It hovered above the horizon like an orange dinner plate. I'd hoped the camera would capture its intensity and size but it hasn't.  'The font' joins me in the garden and we stand with a glass of champagne marveling at this unexpected sight. Even better, the sea is calm enough for the moon to be reflected on the water.

PONs know that all sorts of weird and wonderful things come out on a bright moonlight night. Sophie, being occasionally fearless, heads off across the harvested wheat fields in noisy pursuit of things she alone can see. The family diva soon returns to the front gate convinced that she has scared off all manner of interlopers. She is congratulated and rewarded with a small carrot. As all PONs know - bravery is its own reward but a carrot and a cuddle don't hurt. What the villagers think of a PONette that howls at the moon is unknown.


Tweet of the day :https://twitter.com/Gabriele_Corno/status/1567416746344079361

Thought this was daft but apparently all beekeepers talk to their bees. Nothing to add now that I understand bees are psychopomps  :https://twitter.com/PickardJE/status/1569253266755551236 . It is still arguably the oddest / most wonderful thing I've discovered this year :https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Telling_the_bees



16 comments:

Lisa in France said...

Beautiful photo of Sophie and the moon. Saturday was Otsukimi, the Moon-Viewing Festival, in Japan, and it was clear and beautiful here as well. I hope you don't mind, but your Tweet of the Day reminded me of another I saw, and also enjoyed, about an hour ago: https://twitter.com/visegrad24/status/1569171166752907264

Poppy Q said...

I love your bright blue chair painting with Miss Sophie underneath, and admire your new bright phase of living. What a year of changes for you all!

Coppa's girl said...

I too, love that painting and applaud your transition to bright, cheerful and modern - something I've always embraced. All I need to do now is to rid myself of the accumulation of 22 years of living here and many discarded hobbies!
Inca is coming up to 13 and I suspect has failing eyesight, although the vet assures me that she's fine. Her bloodwork was impressive in July when she went for her annual check-up. She has now decided that wherever I go, she goes too, and like Sophie, will lie in the most inconvenient places. I'd really like to know how she can tell, in advance, exactly where I'm going. Asking her to move falls on deaf ears too.

Anonymous said...

So many changes in the last month (and even week).

WFT Nobby said...

That was Gail and Nobby commenting above!

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari OM
The suggestion that the world should be stopped and forced to mourn because someone died hints at dictatorship... let life continue as it must. Frankly, I think the government ought to be getting on with their day jobs too. Pay respects and then move along. I know Sophie understands me... it's enough to make one want to howl at the moon. YAM xx

Travel said...

When my Grandfather died in 1976, my Grandmother insisted that my father go tell the bees in the home-yard. He was embarrassed by the old tradition, and by the tears. I went with him, he swore me to secrecy, this week is the first time I have written about it.

Angus said...

Travel - That is beyond wonderful !

Camille said...

We have beekeepers in the family so I already knew of the somewhat daft tradition of keeping the bees informed. Frankly, I think anyone who messes around with thousands of stinging insects completely bonkers. My brother, who lives down in PA, neglected to tell his hives of a death in the family and the hives died off a few months later. He still feels deep remorse for the omission.

I'm so enjoying hearing how your adjustment process is progressing and seeing all the photos.

Melinda from Ontario said...

The hedgehog video was delightful. Then I watched the video Lisa in Tokyo posted in her comment. I can't even think of an adjective that matches its level of sweetness.
I love everything about your move but I particularly enjoy reading about your progress with letting things go. There's something so satisfying about a simpler, uncluttered life. I love the idea that I could pick up and move, should I get the urge, without my "stuff" holding me back. (I'm working on it.)

Jake of Florida said...

I know that huge bright dinner plate moon! It occasionally thrills Miamians as it rises over Biscayne Bay.

Diaday said...

My friend has beehives on the farm that used to be her father's but upon his passing became hers. With a glass of Kentucky bourbon in hand she went to the beehives to toast her dad and to tell the bees of his passing. It was cloudy and rainy in Ohio so we were't able to view the Harvest Moon/Full Corn Moon.

Anonymous said...

I see a painting in your photo of Sophie's gazing over the fields entranced by the rising Moon:) A beautiful juxtaposition of sky, moon, Sophie, fields, and the deepening colors!

Stephanie said...

The first and last photos of Sophie are particular favorites.

Stephanie said...

You may add to that the first two photos from yesterday's post. Angus, these are superb!

Joanne in Massachusetts said...

The blog Punkin's Patch found at favoritesheep.blogspot.com posted a touching entry on September 2, 2022 of their beekeeper friend who died on the 1st at 99 years of age.