July 14th. Bastille Day. The PONs are eager to get the day started.
The farmer harvested the wheat in the field by the crossroads three days ago. On our morning walk we see he's already grubbed up the stalks and is ready to start ploughing.
The mayor has set out the tricolors on the war memorial in readiness for the village Bastille Day celebrations. Around eleven the ancient combatants will be wheeled out for a brief rendition of the national anthem followed by a convivial glass or two of flock administered by The Very Old Farmer from his stainless steel tea urn. The special needs home will have a barbecue lunch and afternoon disco on the village green.
Later today a screen will be set up outside the village hall in readiness for tonights showing of a comedic movie about a snooty Parisian and his even snootier wife who come to live in the country. Their teenage daughter falls in love with a local farmers son who smells of cow dung and picks his teeth with his fingers. The inevitable happens and the Parisians soon have country in-laws who visit them in the Marais with 'side splitting' consequences. It is shown every year - sometimes twice. If its windy the screen will fall over. The lengths of power cable that run from the projector to the power point in the Salle des Fetes will, at various times, be tripped over so that the showing will be interrupted while the mayor tries to find the source of the problem.
Something exotic makes an appearance in the greengrocers. They are hard and scaly. Decidedly suspicious.
The French military sing the Marseillaise in a very 'clipped' way : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qRim0nZ8bBg . Rather different from the more usual 'Berlioz' style : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7zQ57J8PSY
Bob and Sophie stand at the far gate watching pilgrims saunter by on their way to the shrine at Compostella. All pilgrims, irrespective of age or gender, are barked at. Some get the '' we're the worlds most ferocious guard dogs '' bark, others the " we're starving orphan dogs and have never, ever, been fed " yelp. How they determine who should get which form of greeting a canine mystery.
By the gate an old cherry tree. Years ago it had a run in with a lawn tractor which removed a section of bark. In between howling at innocent passers by the PON duo lick and slurp away at the damaged tree trunk. They can do this for fifteen minutes at a time. There is something in the sap that they find completely irresistible. What can it be ?
In the early evening a trip with the grande dame of stage and screen to the local abbey for a concert of Spanish music by Albeniz . A virtuoso performance by a heavily sequined lady castanet player brings the grande dame to her feet . '' Wonderful, wonderful, simply wonderful ". Here's a link to the smile inducing music.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BgGOruqfM9Q
The day of the village pottery fair. The reproduction sixteenth century kiln all ready to be fired up. This year someone has sensibly removed the roof tiles that cover the chimney.
It's barely seven but the very old farmer is sitting by the village pond ,a bottle of home made wine on a fold up table in front of him. He's wearing a blue smock and a black beret tilted at a jaunty angle. '' Keeping an eye on things " he announces as I wander by. He repeats himself, tickles Sophie and offers me a plastic tumbler full of wine.
On our way back home we see that the local council has dropped off twenty or so crowd control barriers in the car park by the war memorial. Crowd control barriers are an unusual sight in our little village of 67 souls. The word incongruous springs to mind.
Another hot morning. Bob and Sophie settle down in the shade of the courtyard. For them there's a busy day ahead. Seventeen potters and ceramicists to be barked at. Who knows ? There may be vast crowds to control.
