Biscuits ?

Wave 2 of the virus well and truly here. Our little corner of paradise now officially included in the 'red zone' that stretches uninterrupted from Bordeaux to Toulouse. This isn't really a surprise. The original lockdown was well policed and largely obeyed. But then came the nationwide August vacations and all sense of danger evaporated.  With nearly 10,000 positive tests yesterday the government now has to decide how to respond.

Of course here in the village we are fortunate. The kids go off to school in a socially spaced bus. The old folks home is strict about who comes in and who goes out ( which makes the matrons job much easier as some of her older residents were prone to wandering ) and meetings of more than ten people have been postponed for the duration.

Courier deliveries to The Rickety Old Farmhouse are soaring. Today the missing pictures from Scotland arrive.

They have been crated and wrapped with a degree of care that suggests the Mona Lisa is inside. Angus spends a couple of hours disassembling the crate. His shaggy companion looks on in hope that this is the mother of all biscuit deliveries. She is disappointed.

Great video and song : https://youtu.be/dhX7ZJS3shE

Perhaps the most unusual thing I've read this month :  https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-09-02/coffin-confessor-bill-edgar-reveals-secrets-of-dead-at-funerals/12619946

Delayed delivery.

Angus buys four small pictures at an on-line auction in Scotland. They are crated up in Edinburgh and couriered to Toulouse. Fedex promises they'll arrive on Monday - 'Delivery will be between 8.00 am and 6.00 pm'. Angus waits in all day. On Monday night the Fedex website annoyingly says there was no one at the address to receive them. All day Tuesday is spent waiting. Same message. Wednesday the helpline ,challenged by a grumpy Scotsman, promises they'll take care of it. Guess what ? Come Wednesday night the same message.  Three days lost. Let's hope the pictures show up today.

Angus has a start of day espresso in the garden. Sophie makes it quite clear that a trip to the bakers for some curly croissant ends should be on the cards. She waits impatiently while Angus and men in dark suits discuss Ted Cruz and Tom Cotton being nominated for the Supreme Court. 

On our return home from the bakers Sophie opts for a nap on the kitchen floor.

This book is proving to be a delight. The stories of a plague ridden Florence in the 1460's seem strangely relevant.

And this is the book about Lincolns second inauguration and the daytime appearance of Venus in the sky over Washington. It has an easily readable jauntiness that made it rather enjoyable.

Is there any other music this emotional ?  : https://youtu.be/MWZmw7qKjNM

I love this indomitable lady on the drums : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wNmyYgkG2z8

Shining through.

For the last three mornings the stars have been quite remarkable. Orions Belt shining away in the clear air overhead, Mars glowing red in the southern sky,  Venus like a spotlight to the west.  Last year at this time of the morning there would have been aircraft lights everywhere . Today, not a one. It will be some time before Airbus in Toulouse gets back to its busy test flight schedule.

Angus has just finished reading a book describing the events surrounding Lincolns second inauguration. A day famous for the Vice President drinking three large whiskies on an empty stomach and subsequently finding it difficult to repeat his oath of office. Just after the Presidents swearing in the clouds parted, the torrential rain stopped and Venus came shining through. I'd not have though it possible for a planet to be seen in the early afternoon but folks commented on it at the time.  Even then they thought it was an augury. http://www.mrlincolnswhitehouse.org/washington/other-government-buildings/government-buildings-second-inaugural/

After a cup of coffee and a bowl of water the sun is up and  Angus and Sophie head off for their walk round the village. From time to time Sophie stops to make sure I'm not falling behind.

The sunflowers will be harvested later today.

So starts yet another morning in a quiet French village with a  Polish Lowland Sheepdog lady. The children waiting at the war memorial for their bus are all told by the driver that they have to wear their masks before they're allowed on board. The tikes and their elder sister continue to ignore one another.

The sunflower harvester

Not much to report. Loic the heavily bifocaled gardener comes to blow leaves. He is followed round the garden by a PONette that loves to roll on her back  in his carefully constructed leaf piles. Loic is oblivious to the chaos unravelling behind him.

A black C-A-T has taken to sleeping on a bench on the downstairs terrace. When Sophie heads out into the garden for her start of day comfort break the black C-A-T scurries away over the garden wall. Sophie seems to be completely unaware of the C-A-Ts presence. This has been going on for two weeks now  which makes me question my canine companions credentials as a guard dog.

The man with anger management issues has been on holiday to Spain. 

This morning I notice that the scarecrow on the bench outside the church has a bottle of  San Miguel Spanish beer in its shirt pocket. Seems like the anger management man has a sense of humour.

Another perfect day.Warm but not hot as we head off along the lane.

At the municipal bins we come across a giant yellow machine that has been parked there overnight. Closer examination shows it to be a sunflower harvester. The ferocious cutting blades at the front something you wouldn't want to get too close to.

All the fields here have the sprinklers working  : https://www.reddit.com/r/Whatcouldgowrong/comments/inwe0v/wcgw_broadcasting_news_close_to_sprinkler/

Cold porridge.

The German billionaires seem to have a dozen cars parked in their courtyard. All have Stuttgart plates. Perhaps they're self isolating with friends. Late at night the sound of laughter drifts down towards The Rickety Old Farmhouse from the chateaus capacious terrace.

Monday morning. The school bus picks up its gaggle of unhappy passengers. The smaller ones greet Sophie with a hearty ' Bonjour'. The older ones ignore us with studiedly cool teenage indifference.

We head down to the stream and the waterfall. Sophie has discovered that by carefully perching on the stones that line the stream bed she can access the remaining pools of water for a drink and some minnow fishing.

Off then to the cafe with the audacious sparrows. They flutter around in search of wayward crumbs. Sophie glares at them from under her fringe . Today is a quiet ' I can't be bothered to chase them off ' type day.

The lady at the Volvo garage e-mails  an offer , with a healthy discount and a good price for the ' Loonj' . It is accepted. This afternoon I'll go over and give her the deposit.  Sports cars, practical estate cars and now easy to get into Volvos. Rites of passage. The sports car phase seemed to go by very quickly. 'The Font' wonders if the good price may have something to do with the car having one of 'those' paint schemes. It appears to be the same colour as cold porridge.

Coffee eclairs.

Another cloudless sun soaked start to the day. Sophie finds something 'tantalizing' on the village green. The workmen who have been cutting the grass verges have left their tractor parked outside the church. Its tyres are carefully sniffed 

Maybe it's the warmth of the sun. Maybe it's because it's the weekend but todays croissant merits a 9.4/10. Approaching Paris levels of buttery flakiness.

We ignore the tinned fruit tart and consider a pear charlotte.

Instead we opt for a coffee eclair for me ...

 ... and a red fruit tartlet for 'The Font'. Angus also asks for a tartellette au chocolat and a Bavarois. He puts this down not to greed but to a desire to help small businesses at this difficult time.

Sophie gets given some choux pastry crumbs which elicits a most unlady like yelp of unadulterated delight.

The Old Parisian Lady has seen her daughter, son in law and grandchild.  She wants to stay near them but also wants to get back to see her husband. He, after his cataract operation, is staying indoors with all the shutters closed to keep out the light. Madame Bay and the ladies of the Beautiful Byeways committee are there to give him breakfast, lunch and dinner. On Saturday evening Angus stops by with a bottle of St.Julien which is opened and shared in the twilight . Angus reads out stories from the local newspaper and has his diction corrected. We learn that Toulouse airport had ten million passengers last year but is forecasting only a quarter of that total in 2020. Tellingly, no forecast is given for 2021.

The gentle routines of September .

Something cooling for a hot Sunday morning : https://youtu.be/NhgGbA2ikJU?t=9

Unintended consequences :  https://www.businessinsider.fr/us/coronavirus-bidet-sales-increase-panic-toilet-paper-shortages-brondell-tushy-2020-3

Can this be true about Australia ? I once saw a seething cobra nest ( den ? ) under a house in Chennai - which was an alarming sight :   https://www.cbc.ca/radio/asithappens/2-massive-pythons-fall-though-australian-man-s-ceiling-1.5710901

A quiet Labor Day ahead ?

Eagle eyed readers will note that Sophie's paws are dark brown. The little stream and waterfall have dried out. They do however remain muddy - extremely muddy. This morning Angus and his shaggy companion share some Labor Day insights from a dark suited Manhattanite. Seems that the American hotel industry is projected to shrink by 45% this year. Only 16% of Americans plan to travel for Labor Day, 25% for Thanksgiving and 29% for Christmas. 14% of hotel rooms are booked for tonight and tomorrow, compared with 41% last year. Sophie is not surprised.

To the cafe with the audacious sparrows for our early morning coffee. Todays offering a study in mundanity. Lumpen, soggy and flavour free. Charity awards it a 6/10 although 5.4 might be more realistic. My fluffy side kick is less critical. All curly croissant ends warrant at least an 11/10.

Two small strawberry tarts are bought for lunch. The girl behind the counter wanders over and strokes Sophie's head. Sophie accepts this familiarity with resigned good grace. She knows that the girl has a small mignardise in her hand. Curly croissant ends and a mignardise.  Life is good !

Car buying time. We go to several garages. Angus stipulates how much he will spend, how much he wants for the health hazard dog car and when he expects delivery. He has no interest in colour, seats or wheel finishes. Space in theback for the PONette is the key factor in this choice. If they can come up with something he'll deal. He has less than zero interest in negotiating.  The first sales lady finds this Anglo-Saxon approach completely incomprehensible.

The dress code seems rather puritanical for a 'themed' event? : https://www.greenbrier.com/Holidays-Events/Murder-Mystery-Dinner-Theatre-(4).aspx

Can't wait to catch up with this :  https://twitter.com/donwinslow/status/1302014053674446848

The kind concierge

The Parisian lady is dropped off at the airport for the flight to Nice. When she gets there a car will pick her up and take her to her daughters hospital. The concierge at a large and luxurious hotel in Cannes proved invaluable in arranging a car and driver ( and when he learns of the reason ) at cost price. 

For Angus and Sophie it's a quiet start to the day. Three coy deer watch us from the safety of the tree line.  With no hunters around the natural order of things is reasserting itself. 

The stream once again drying out. A couple of shady pools enable the family princess to enjoy a refreshing drink. If we don't get rain this weekend then the pools and the stream will evaporate away.

Four tables taken on the cafe terrace. One couple wear their mask while enjoying their morning coffee. They remove their masks, take a sip of coffee, then put their masks back on. It takes no less than seven separate sips and 'puttings on' before they've finished their cups. This seems to be taking things to excess although there were 23 positive cases in our quiet little department yesterday. The highest level recorded so far .

We ignore the tinned pineapple, mandarin orange slices and raspberry tart and consider whether to invest in a raspberry or strawberry alternative. Today the raspberry offering wins.

At the greengrocers the fresh peaches are finished. The first of the Mandarin Oranges arrive from Morocco. An early hint of Christmas to come.

This is apparently a thing in Wisconsin : https://www.insidehook.com/article/booze/ice-cream-cocktails

Worth a read  : https://www.straitstimes.com/asia/se-asia/thai-king-reinstates-royal-consort-and-her-titles-palace

Global warming in an unusual setting : https://www.popularmechanics.com/science/environment/a33864835/crater-methane-eruption-russia/

Events.

Dog and master make it to the war memorial just as the school bus heads off.  It is a day of complete cloudlessness.

In the neighbouring village the local architect has done a good job of converting an old shop with two large ground floor  windows into something that looks as if its always been a house. Commercial to residential conversions rarely work well.

Our croissant this morning a sad affair. A fall in the rankings to a 5.2/10.  Angus finds little to recommend it - think of supermarket sliced white - but Sophie thinks its wonderful. A Tesla with British plates draws up at the bakers. A man gets out, wanders in and orders six croissants. He says neither Good morning on entering nor thank you on leaving. The French find this Anglo Saxon brusqueness vulgar. There again you try going down the local High Street in the UK wishing shop owners Good Morning and see the looks you'd  get.

Angus and Sophie stop outside the Vietnamese restaurant. This is the seventh or eighth incarnation as a restaurant since we've been here. Last year it was a deeply unfashionable Salon de The. Dog and master discover that there are such things as Vietnamese pizzas -  Khumer netwok - as the menu informs us. It is unlikely that Angus, having read the list of toppings, will be popping out for any of these exotic offerings.

Last night, late, the old Parisian lady came to the gate. She's just heard that her daughter, the daughters husband and their child are all in ICU. Someone coming down the motorway in the wrong direction ran into them. They are in three separate hospitals around Cannes. To make things worse the old lady's husband is at home with an eye infection after a cataract operation. We discuss her options. Too late to do anything this late at night. Today, 'The Font' is up at five to book flights, arrange transport and make sure Madame Bay and the ladies of the Beautiful ByeWays Committee are on hand to help look after the eye invalid.

So starts another day of unexpected events in a small village in deept, deepest France profonde.

In the Hamptons

Sophie dozes at the front door while Angus has an interesting chat with a dark suited man. The early rising Manhattanite thinks shutdown  may represent the largest risk transfer by income bracket in recorded history. The wealthiest  removed infection risks by transferring them to those who kept society afloat.  He expects there to be another HUGE stimulus package in recognition of this. He says 5% of New Yorkers are working from the Hamptons and may make their homes there.  80% of his staff aren't coming into the office apart from a shortened day once a week or so to maintain 'esprit de corps' with the new interns. There has been no fall off in efficiency or profitability.

Here it's another of those heaven made days that start warm and have a gentle breeze that accompanies us on our way through the sunflowers to the waterfall. Sophie loves charging through the sunflowers. She clearly has a sense of adventure and has no problem being out of my sight.

At the cafe there is another dog. Male PONs would have been keen to say hello. Sophie is of the opinion that it's not worth her time greeting this interloper. PONettes are a level of creation elevatedly different from their brothers.

The croissant, considering we're not in the 6eme in Paris, is a delight. Warm, flaky and yet buttery. Angus scores it 9.4/10. Sophie who has been brought a bowl of water and a mignardise ( does the waitress not know Sophie gets the curly croissant ends ? ) gives it a tail thumping 14/10. The other dog sits and stares at an adjacent table until it is rewarded with some torn off lumps of baguette. I tell Sophie she's missing a trick.

Wonderful : https://gizmodo.com/an-ancient-breed-of-singing-dog-isnt-extinct-in-the-wil-1844906068

This is a style of writing that 's breathless :
https://solana.substack.com/p/fire-in-the-sky

The things one never knew : https://www.quantamagazine.org/mathematicians-report-new-discovery-about-the-dodecahedron-20200831/

School starts

School starts today. Sophie passes a cluster of unhappy faces around the war memorial as the village children wait for the school bus. The two tikes look as though they're on their way to the guillotine. Their elder sister stares at the screen on her phone and ignores them. They sit at the back of the bus. She sits at the front.

We watch the bus head off along the lane. Sophie, is told, as I've told PONs for decades past, that a day of high adventure awaits. The PONs may change, the routine doesn't, nor, come to that, the sentiment.

Perfect weather. Like an English summers day. 20 degrees, no humidity and the faintest of breezes that could charm you for hours. Up here on the ridge the sunflowers are well past their prime. Sophie barges her way through them. Every so often she reappears on the track to make sure I'm still there. There is minnow fishing.

Back home after a trip for the morning croissant she makes it quite plain that today is a ' I'm up for anything' day.

While Angus cleans the pool his shaggy companion out stares butterflies.

Just another quiet morning in deepest, deepest France profonde. The wisteria around the front door is starting to flower for the fourth time this year. All is well with the world.

The social mine field that is Covid. : https://www.insidehighered.com/news/2020/08/31/colleges-want-professors-stay-mum-student-covid-19-cases



Music for the times : https://twitter.com/AlistairGriffin/status/1300009256817766400