Time honoured

6:34 am. On the tarmac outside The Rickety Old Farmhouse a large spider attracts Sophie's attention. This has to be studied and glared at before we can get on our way. The large spider is probably unaware it is being glared at. This in so way detracts from Sophie's sense of purpose.

We head off up the hill and through the sunflower fields. A large Kite circles overhead - a full size bigger than the more common place eagles or buzzards . It makes a shrill whistling noise as it goes. A balmy 18 degrees this morning. It is forecast to get into the low 30's this afternoon.  For the next month or so the highlights of Sophie's day will be  long morning and evening walks with extensive heat avoiding naps in between. 

The rain of recent weeks has given way to blue skies interspersed with bubbly clouds. On our way back through the village it's clear that the population of 67 souls has been reduced to barely half a dozen.  Not a person to be seen. Angus notes that the flags remain up on the war memorial. That's 27 days. The previous mayor took them down after 3. The question now is whether they make it to 45 ?

While we're out The Old Farmer has been busy. He has got to that ' putting everything in order' stage of life. Two trailers and the Peugeot Estate are clustered together in front of his house. A piece of old hardboard with AV ( For Sale ) sprayed on it in bright orange letters has been placed in the high sided ex-Army trailer. Traffic through the village is light at the best of times. In high summer it's two cars an hour in the rush hour and a car an hour for the rest of the day. Passing buyers are likely to be few and far between for these time honoured possessions. One chapter end another begins.

 

Paris 2024.

We watch a little of the Olympics closing ceremony. The Tokyo organizers can finally relax. The games could have been a damp squib but proved to be tailor made for lockdown viewing. The 'handover' celebrations in Paris seem to have been 60% mask on, 40% mask off. 

Monday morning in deepest,deepest France profonde. Sophie is loaded into the back of the dog car for a drive down to the stream for a drink . While she slurps happily away we watch the dragon flies. Dozens ( scores ?) of them up and about in the break of day sunlight. Sophie is much more interested in the scents left by the streams overnight visitors - badgers, deer, foxes, hare and who knows what else ? She spends a full ten minutes sniffing every leaf and branch. She will not be hurried.

The fields next to The Rickety Old Farmhouse at their peak. Sunflowers in full bloom....

... fields of Queen Anne's lace sprouting where the wheat has been harvested  .... 

... and a view into the valley that shows (yet ) another front is scudding in from the Bay of Biscay.

At the cafe the e-scanner isn't working. The hard copy of our vaccine certificate is checked by the lady who takes our order. It seems there were a couple of thousand folks out on the streets of Toulouse yesterday complaining about the governments policy on vaccination.  Scale that up nationwide and there may have been 0.1% of the population out and about protesting. In comparison 15% of the French  have signed up to be vaccinated in the last two or three weeks since the President announced the new regulations. Soon the French vaccination rate will catch up with the UK's. This morning there is an extremely impassioned lady on the breakfast radio saying her human rights are being violated and that showing a Covid certificate is like wearing a yellow star. Is it politically incorrect to think that the two could not be more different ?

 

Unwelcome suitor

Sunday morning in deepest France profonde. Bipolar weather. Chilly and wet in the mornings. Hot and humid in the afternoons. It's been like this for the last month. Sophie makes it clear that a little rain shouldn't delay our start of the day tour of the village.

The family diva waits expectantly for her days adventures to begin. Leading the news this morning a report from Greece where high temperatures and winds have fueled the forest fires around Athens. It looks as if it's going to be a second bad year in a row for the Mediterranean tourist industry. 

Nineteenth months since we've been back to the UK. We start making plans for a quick trip to the dentist later this month. The Brits require tests. France only requires proof of a double jab and a signed 'attestation' saying that we don't have any of the symptoms of Covid. The local pharmacy will do the required pre-departure test for nothing. The London hotel can arrange a 'second day' test for a cost of £150. This must be booked and paid for even if you plan to be in the country for 24 hours.

This morning, just as we're about to drive off in search of a croissant, the farmers sheepdog appears. He has that unmistakable sheepdog ' What are WE going to do now ?' glint in his eyes. He is rather crestfallen to find that he's too late to greet the long haired diva. The long haired diva is delighted that she's in the car and doesn't have to deal with this enthusiastic suitor.

 The cleverness of squirrels :https://science.sciencemag.org/content/373/6555/697

Hotel e-mail of the week :https://www.theluxurysafaricompany.com/the-retreat-at-giraffe-manor/

Certificates.

No prizes for guessing what causes a start of day 'rumpus' at The Rickety Old Farmhouse. While Sophie howls in rage a village C-A-T , which has been asleep on the roof of the dog car, wakes and stands looking at her. The howling level increases several notches. C-A-T looks like it would welcome a staring contest but instead clambers back onto the car roof and then leaps into a tree. Sophie finally subsides into a ' Can you believe the audacity of it ?' silence.

The young horses in the field by the crossroads are about to have their breakfast. After the 'issue' with the C-A-T Sophie is in no mood to deal with horses en masse. We pick up our pace and Angus is positioned , strategically, between the family diva and the horses. There is only so much drama a girl can cope with before seven in the morning.

The attractive young lady behind the bakery counter provides two croissants this morning. Sophie gets a bowl of cold water and an ear rub. We once again seem to be back in serving croissants in a paper bag mode . The little wicker baskets the croissants used to be served in  have been put aside due to the new Covid regulations. As of Sunday anyone going into the cafe will need to show their ' Certificat Covid Numerique'. We have this set up on our phones as well as having paper backup copies in each cars glovebox.

More activity at the chateau. A truck with Berlin registration plates appears towing behind it an ancient FIAT.  The chief mechanic tells me it's a 1938 model found in a garage in Poland thirty years ago and badly restored.  The paintwork will be  replaced, and the engine and gearbox rebuilt. It seems that the German billionaire is going to have a fleet of vintage vehicles for all the chateaus odd jobs and shopping trips.

 Just another morning in a small French village where nothing ever happens. 

'Isn't that odd?' thing I learnt today. Thukdam :https://bigthink.com/surprising-science/thukdam-study

Unwritten

The concrete storm drain cover has dried out after the recent rain. This means Sophie and her companion can sit on it side by side , watch the sunrise, generally shoot the breeze and put the world to rights. 

The Old Mayor drives by in the ancient blue metallic Renault without hub caps. He stops for a chat. When he was five years old he used to watch his father plough what is now the donkey field. They had a German Prisoner of War to help them. His name was Hans. How they would have got through the winter of 1945 without him he doesn't know. 'He used to harness up the oxen. There was no petrol that year ... or the year after '. I ask him why he doesn't write down these memories before they're forgotten. ' Too painful. My grandfather fought in the '14 war. My father in '40 and I fought in Algeria. Some of these things are best left unwritten '. This start of day conversation says a lot about France.

After the Old Mayor drives off we sit awhile until the sun has risen quarter way into the sky. Sophie shows little interest in world affairs but she is aware of a rustling in the thick shrubs by the storm drain. Three young partridge wander into the sunshine. Sophie appraises them with a divas disdainful hauteur. Sophie's equity in the universe is of an almost entirely practical nature. The young partridge retrace their steps.

Our return along the lane is delayed by the appearance of a horse in the field opposite. It has wandered over to see us and rests its head on the fence while doing so.

Horse is large, friendly and communicative. Being a village horse it lives in the hope that someone has brought along a carrot, or preferably two carrots, as a morning snack. It neighs loudly and shows a fine set of teeth. Sophie is less convinced that a large, talkative horse sporting a fine set of teeth is a good way to start her day . She heads of home at a brisk pace with Angus carefully interposed between her and this alarming piebald presence.

First order of priority after that excitement is to settle down on the doorstep and have a restorative nap.

So starts another day in deepest France profonde. 

 Not a C-A-T you'd want to have a run in with :https://twitter.com/MoscowTimes/status/1422914866021650442

Things I didn't know :https://www.popsci.com/story/technology/bowling-ball-insides-photos/

Planned activities.

The weather continues to be unseasonably cold and wet. Is this climate change or just an oddly inclement year ? This is not a question that would interest Sophie. Every day, wet, cold, hot or dry is the backdrop to great adventures. This morning we have to shelter under a tree amid a sudden and unexpected downpour. Sophie discovers a leaf from which the water drips in a steady, regular way . She positions herself so that the drips fall on her nose. She can wipe the drops away with a satisfying roll of her tongue. Drip, nose lick, drip, nose lick, drip...... This goes on for some time and would still be going on were it not for the fact she is 'encouraged' home. All PON girls know to take their excitement where they can find it. 

The flags still up on the war memorial. The rain and wind has plastered them across the stonework which gives them an air of studied informality. They have been up now for 25 days. Will they make it to 30 ?

Sophie follows me round the house. Not so much to enjoy my company but to indicate she is ever so slightly miffed that we don't have a day of activities planned. Angus is waiting for some wine to be delivered and is staying at home for the courier to show up.  ' Your  cartons will be delivered between 8.00 and 10.00 am '. It goes without saying that there is no sign of the delivery driver in the allotted time slot. There is a universal law . The more the shipper texts the less likely he is to show up.

While Angus unpacks and records the wine Sophie heads off with 'The Font ' to the departmental capital to go shopping for shoes. Angus thinks this is very 'brave'. Sophie has a  definite ' Isn't life fun ?' spring in her step. There may be shoe shop mayhem ahead.

 Saucy parrots :https://www.nzherald.co.nz/lifestyle/five-parrots-separated-at-uk-zoo-after-encouraging-each-other-to-swear-at-guests/OJHNW3XBQQBO3PUB4HGJYET4Q4/

Oil change.

 

The Old Farmer is out and about early. Today he's in a red check shirt and shiny blue track suit bottoms. Open toed sandals complete his wardrobe.  A morning for changing the oil in his lawn tractor. To do this the venerable Mercedes has to be reversed out of the garage so that the  tractor can be retrieved. All of this takes rather longer than one might expect. The oil can is too heavy for him to hold so a half litre Evian bottle is found.  Oil is poured into it so that he can work away at his own pace. When you're 90 there is a comfort in undertaking familiar old routines. 

The flags are still out on the war memorial. They have now been up for three weeks. Will they still be there after a month ?

This mornings croissant is  exactly what it appears to be. Soft and gooey. 5/10. Sophie gets not only the curly ends but also a  bit from the centre. Humans may be disdainful of gooey croissant but PONettes adore the texture. She makes a Hannibal Lector snort of delight not once, but twice. In PONs this is a sure sign of joy overload.

The sunflower field next to The Rickety Old Farmhouse alive with bees. Is the lime tree on the village green or the sunflower field noisier ? I'd still go for the lime tree. The sound is more concentrated.  On closer examination the sunflowers seem to have an avaerage of two bees per flower. Scale that up and there must be at least 100,000 bees at work here .,,, maybe more.

Sophie is in fine fettle. Gooey croissant and a headlong charge through the sunflower fields. What better way for a girl to start her day ?

Daily link : https://www.vice.com/en/article/k78kg9/why-do-humans-cry

This description of a trip to Tanzania - complete with 1 minute Covid test - is priceless :https://brunomacaes.substack.com/p/tanzania-and-covid-traveling-must?r=6vmcq&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&utm_source=twitter

At last.

At last better weather arrives. The skies blue, the breeze gentle. The only residents left in the village are ourselves, The Old Farmer, the Belgian lady , the German billionaires ( plus entourage ) and the parents of the tikes. They are not early risers so our tour of the village is a quiet, solitary affair. The six am radio bulletin has informed its listeners that temperatures in Greece have hit 48 degrees - the hottest ever recorded. 

After the recent rain the soil in the sunflower fields has turned into a thick, sticky, gloop. By the time we get down to the valley Sophie's paws are caked in this mud. Nothing that a paddle in the stream and a drink from the waterfall won't take care of. We head home up the tarmac road. It's twice as long but the gradient isn't as steep and there's no mud accumulation to worry about.

Today, the men in dark suits discuss the on-again, off-again, infrastructure bill, the reappearance of the pandemic in China, Judge Kavanaugh and the Federal evictions moratorium and the impact of the virus on the tourism industry. They've been reading the New York Times and have come away with the impression that Europe is in open revolt over mandatory vaccinations. I reassure them that from my perspective everything in 'Yurp' is calm. There were a number of slightly overweight policemen and definitely overweight sapeurs-pompiers at the vaccination centre last week but that was because the Prime Minister had ventured into the hinterlands for a photo opportunity with the country folk. Despite being fully vaccinated the Manhattanites are reconsidering their new routine of Mondays and Fridays at home and mid-week in the office. 

 

Unusual news of the day :https://www.eurekalert.org/news-releases/924183

No let up.

No let up in the rain. This is turning into the wettest summer since we've been here. Sophie eyes up the grey skies and wonders whether to return to bed.

Our morning excitement is provided by two young deer who wander across the road in front of us. When I say young I'm talking of a week or so old at the most. One retreats back into the woodland, the other hides among the sunflowers. Sophie is intrigued but not sufficiently intrigued to give chase.

By now all the sunflower fields for miles around should be flowering. This year the overcast skies and rain mean that  more sheltered spots are still waiting to bloom. Sunflowers, en masse, in the rain can look a little 'dreech'.

We pass the little 13th century chapel. There's a solitary car there. The groundskeeper is up and about early weeding the cemetery. He stops and waves as we pass. 'The weeds are loving this weather'. 

Then it's time to head off to the cafe for our morning croissant. We wait a while until the queue thins out and then opt to share our breakfast in the car park. Sophie is quite ok with this. Afterwards she is rewarded with a ten minute tour of all the shopping centre lamp posts. By the time we get back The Old Farmer is up and about. He is unimpressed with the new television. I shall go over later today and label the remotes so he knows which one turns it on and which one boosts the volume. Today he will be working on the venerable Ford Transit motor home. 

This doesn't sound ideal  :https://twitter.com/anasalhajji/status/1421441437170905088

The 1950's.

The motorway , usually quiet at this time of the morning, already busy. The peak weekend of the year on the roads. Homeward bound holiday makers passing those just venturing off to the coast. The last week has been wet. The coming week will hopefully be brighter and drier. I find myself thinking that the farmers will have been glad of the rain. This is a 100% sure sign that the transition into my father is complete.

After our morning croissant Angus and Sophie head off through the sunflower fields. It's rained overnight and the clay is thick and sticky. Too thick and sticky for furry paws. We opt to complete our walk on the tarmac. This isn't as exciting as ploughing through the sunflower canyons but is infinitely easier.

The old mayor stops for a lengthy chat. He'd like to update the village history. Would I be interested in coming to a meeting in the village hall ? He's asked six of the other surrounding mayors to join him  in trying to record the changes of the last seventy years before they're forgotten. Seems that as late as the 1950's the lane was compacted red clay and the main crop of the region was wine. ' The ground is pebbly so drainage was ideal ' says the old mayor . Electricity came in the mid 50's together with widespread use of tractors. The biggest change of all was the supply of year round water when the government bought the land to build a dam and create a 3 hectare lake. This removed the threat of drought which used to occur, with devastating effects,  once every six or seven years.

Back in the village the German billionaires chauffeur and odd job men are working on the vintage car collection. Sophie is harnessed up to stop her disappearing under an old Peugeot truck. She is very keen to explore inside the garages but is ' encouraged' along.

What were they thinking ? That London tourist attraction lasted all of two days before being shut :https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/widely-mocked-london-tourist-attraction-closes-two-days-after-opening-180978330/