Devils spawn.

 

The pool man is here all day. 

Sophie closely monitors the laying of the new grey liner from a safe position in the middle of the lawn.

In the afternoon she moves so that the sun is behind her. Her gaze remains unyielding. You can never be too careful with builders.

When he goes the pool man leaves a pump to remove any trapped air bubbles from the liner. Sophie is not at all taken with this. It makes a sound like the vacuum and must be some sort of related devils spawn. The machine has to be left on all night. Sophie gives it a wide berth on her sorties into the garden.

This morning I notice that ten bags of salt have been stacked at the side of the pool. These weren't here last night and must have been delivered very early. 

This isn't the jelly your mother used to make :https://www.benhamandfroud.com/

These manage to be stylish and practical and small enough to fit in the back garden of the wee house :https://harwyn.com.au/pro/

So basic but so necessary :https://www.pulltaps.com/en/

Sacrosanct.

Six thirty am. The pool man phones to say he'll be here in ten minutes. Thanks for the heads up. There is a mad dash to shift the cars so that the pool mans cement mixer can have unimpeded access to the outside taps. This sounds easy but nothing unexpected, at break of day, is that easy.

Sophie is unimpressed by this change to her morning routine. Somethings are sacrosanct. She tries to hide her impatience but doesn't succeed.

When we do get underway we come across a team of workmen cleaning the bulbs on the street lights. One man goes up the hydraulic lift, unscrews the lamp cover, removes the bulb, washes it, replaces it and the cover, lowers the lift, clambers down and then settles into the trucks passenger side seat. At each light his mate lays out, then collects, no less than six traffic calming cones. He  stands, with a walkie talkie, in the middle of the road to direct any traffic. There is no traffic - this being a small village in the middle of a national lockdown.  The village has twenty street lights so I'm guessing the workmen are going to be here all day. Sophie stands rooted to the spot. She is completely transfixed by this repetitive, balletic,  activity. The unsmiling workmen try to ignore us. I try to ignore them. Sophie is keen to move from supervising to becoming fully involved. She is 'encouraged' along.

Two women from the local wimmins cooperative painting the metal gate on the house by the war memorial. Sophie is intrigued by what they're doing and stands silently , tail waving, watching them. After a brief catch up with the the ladies  on how this years alpaca wool harvest has been ( long term readers will remember Elio the priapic Llama ) we move on.

 So starts a morning  - with a sheepdog -  in a small French village.

Glue.

The pool man phones to say the grey liner has been delivered and that he'll be here to fit it ' when the weather improves '. This is one of those gloriously vague  promises that village workmen trot out. Perhaps they all go to a special college where they're taught to speak like this ? I try to get him to be more precise but all he'll add is that ' the temperature has got to be right for the glue to dry'. This leaves me none the wiser as to when he'll be here.  It's possible he said something else but by the time I'd translated this unexpected and complicated sentence he had ended the call.

Loic the heavily bifocaled gardener shows up. There are no leaves to blow but he's keen to take the lawn tractor out for a spin. I learn from him that the Russian owners of the 80 bedroom chateau down by the river have not been seen for a year. There has been some sort of dispute with the chateaus caretaker over salary payments, the caretaker has now disappeared, the grounds are becoming overgrown and  the mayor has become involved over non-payment of property taxes. This is Loics take on things - the reality may of course be quite different. As  one of Gods ' happy people' Loic is quite unburdened by the need to provide details .... or facts.

Still struggling through this book on China. A very interesting and very detailed history of the Cultural Revolution. The problem is its full of Chinese politicians that appear with little , if any, explanation of who they are or what they're doing. At one point Wu Han from Wuhan enters the story before quickly disappearing.  I'm managing ten pages a night . At this rate I'll not finish it off until the end of June. A very ' worthy' read.

 

A fast moving glacier :https://earther.gizmodo.com/an-alaskan-glacier-has-started-moving-really-really-fa-1846665386

No idea where this map came from but for anyone who's been in Louisville in August the line ' air made of hot soup' is a gem :

Light drizzle.

Midnight in Manhattan, six am here in deepest France profonde. Angus and the Manhattanites discuss Russian pressure on Ukraine, the 'fire' at Irans Nantaz nuclear power plant, and China's claims on Taiwan . Good news - 80% of US seniors have now had at least one dose.  We all agree there will be inflation in energy and food prices and deflation everywhere else.  One of the Manhattanites has been on a weekend trip to Palm Beach. The Manhattanite and his wife were unimpressed by a ' boorish and self absorbed ' after dinner speech  - which is an unexpected reaction.

Grey and drizzly this morning. Not wet enough to revitalize the garden but wet enough to make Angus put on a coat as we head off down the lane.

Sophie is oblivious to the drizzle. Damp weather brings to life all those dried out scents hidden in the long grass along the lane. Our rate of progress to the stream and the waterfall is magisterial.

Over the centuries the village has shifted its location. Two thousand years ago it was located on a steep sided hill four hundred yards from the front gate of The Rickety Old Farmhouse. Over time the village shifted to its present location and the old settlement fell into disuse. Neglect, weather, gravity and an encroaching road built in Napoleonic times have rounded off the contours of the mound and palisades.  From time to time enthusiastic men ( they're always men for some reason ) with metal detectors arrive in search of Roman remains. Anything of note was excavated and shipped off to the departmental museum a hundred and fifty years ago. The site is now home to a large colony of hares who peer down at us from its upper heights. Sophie is too much of a diva to attempt to chase them .

Esoteric link of the day. Hats off to any foreigner who can speak Hungarian which is a complicated but dignified language. And hats off to anyone who can recite Scotlands national poet Rabbie Burns in Hungarian :https://dailynewshungary.com/news_to_go/former-ambassador-to-hungary-celebrates-hungarian-national-poetry-day-video/

Getting the house ready for summer time. 'The Font' is greatly taken with this but Angus is less sure about the practicality and the price :https://eastlondonparasols.com/collections/all-our-lovely-parasols/products/gloria

This is not dish washer friendly breakfast ware. Just looking at this I know I'd break it taking it out of the box. 'The Font' agrees. It too fails the summer 'practicality' test:https://eu.bordallopinheiro.com/cloudy-butterflies-salad-bowl-4l

Plummeted.

We're not allowed to travel more than six miles from our front door unless on a journey of 'vital' necessity.  The drive through bakers and the prospect of a freshly baked croissant will have to wait. What a riot of croissant buying there will be when lockdown ends.

We make do with an early trip to the waterfall and then a detour to the strawberry farm to pick up four more punnets. The farmers wife is having to do the harvesting herself as the team of pickers from Senegal haven't made it to France this year. She's employing a team of local teenagers  but their attendance is sporadic and output lower. Sales to villagers and uprooted Parisians is brisk  but demand from local greengrocers has plummeted.

 

The field of wild orchids undoubtedly suffering from the lack of rain.  It must be getting on for a month and a half since we had more than a sprinkling. On our way back up the hill we see the first of the irrigation systems in action. What's it going to be like by high summer ?

Back at The Rickety Old Farmhouse there is a moment of high drama. Village C-A-T  sees Sophie. Sophie sees village C-A-T. They both look at each other for the better part of five seconds. C-A-T arches its back and hisses. Sophie throws her head back and lets out the PONette howl. C-A-T wisely disappears over a wall. Sophie, oblivious to its disappearance, goes hurtling across the village green in full on 'chase' mode. Let it never be said that life in a small French village where nothing ever happens is quiet.

 A glass head from Egypt. How was it made ? :https://www.christies.com/lot/lot-an-egyptian-red-glass-portrait-head-of-6312702/

Not at all sure about having Elon Musk implant a neuron measuring transponder in my brain. This technology is presumably being developed as a treatment for people with brain injuries ( and I'm sure Air Force pilots will be guinea pigs soon )  although there doesn't seem to be a regulatory agency to monitor what's going on. The video doesn't tell me whether the poor monkey suffered any pain or discomfort which I'd have thought would have been an important  issue. It does at least get a banana milkshake for playing PONG all day long :https://youtu.be/2rXrGH52aoM

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

Haughty.

10 degrees warmer this morning. The bitter cold snap over. Nothing like a sunny morning for exploring the garden and making sure there are no C-A-T-S about.  The same can't be said for the weather in Scotland. A brother phones for a chat and to pass on the news that on the islands it's very grey, very wet and very windy. Everyone over 50 on the island has now had their first jab and work has started on administering the second dose. The sense of joy at getting vaccinated seems to be universal - even among Hebrideans. The island hotel is hopeful that it will re-open next month. It is booked solid.

A grey Renault stops as we're heading along the lane. A middle aged man with a scrappy beard winds down the window and asks the way to the neighbouring village. I give him precise instructions. ' When you get to the horse farm turn left and go 800 metres. You'll be there'.  I also add the warning to drive slowly as it's only a few houses and a small church that can be easily missed.

Ten minutes later he passes in the other direction and stops. He couldn't find the village. Seems he drove straight  through it with seeing it. I send him back again.

Sometime ago our village ( pop 67 ) used to include its neighbour ( pop 32 ). The neighbouring village felt that it was neglected by its big cousin and voted for independence,. This, being France, was duly granted.  The two maintain their haughty, if inefficient, independence. Communication and interaction between the two is non-existent. This is devolved government taken to the extreme.

It's been bitterly cold in the north. The Burgundy growers have been lighting fires and using technology to try to keep the frost from damaging the vine buds . This little video clip is what makes news in France so .... French :https://twitter.com/cedricfaiche/status/1380065276922843136

French tweet #2 :https://twitter.com/SaharAmarir/status/1379514126528098304

Silence

Sophie has been on one of her midnight ' walk abouts '. This morning she's found asleep under a table at the far end of the upstairs hallway. As Angus emerges she trots briskly towards him for a start of day cuddle. Greet a dog in the morning like your long lost best friend and they'll be happy all day. For some reason rooted deep in canine psychology Sophie likes to sleep under tables. 

We delay our departure until two horses come trotting slowly down the lane and pass the near gate. Sophie is content to follow them but prudently keeps close to Angus in case the horses should try any 'unpleasantness' . The horses seem unaware of her presence which is just fine as far as the family diva is concerned. One of the abiding memories of this pandemic will be the silence. Between the curfew and the closure of schools and non-essential businesses the volume of traffic ( which was already light ) has fallen to almost nothing. Yesterday a solitary plane flew over, heading north towards Paris. I stood in the garden and watched its contrails disappear into the distance. In a pandemic you take your excitement where you can find it.

The horses go one way at the 'Y' junction. We go the other. By the stream Sophie's managed to get a good thirty yards ahead. She pauses, looks over her shoulder, and makes it quite clear that she's been waiting for me . My companion does not hide her impatience well.

The field of orchids looking rather the worse for wear. Was it the overnight cold snap ? Or could it be the fact we haven't had a drop of rain in more than a month ? The field of orchids is one of the unnoticed wonders of our little corner of paradise. A spot known only to dog owners and old farmers.

 Another of those new hotels that's opened and then closed. There is something rather magical about being on the sode of the Thames despite the proximity to London :https://www.mitrehamptoncourt.com/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=local

Can you get any more Scottish than this ?:https://killiehuntly.scot/stay-in-the-farmhouse

And I thought Lego was for pre-schoolers :https://www.cbc.ca/radio/asithappens/as-it-happens-monday-edition-1.5971290/lego-enthusiast-explains-why-the-black-market-for-the-toy-bricks-is-so-lucrative-1.5974493

Broad shoulders

Venus glittering like a diamond as we set off on out start of day tour of the village. This morning she's joined by a thin crescent moon. The two of them hanging gracefully, side by side, just above the horizon. 

Sophie's walk is undertaken amid decidedly chilly temperatures. A blast of frigid air has swept down from the arctic taking us all by surprise. There has been snow up north. Sophie loves the cold spell. PONette weather. Oblivious to the icy gusts she stands and stares, for what seems an eternity, at something only she can see in the long grass by the village pond. There is a smell of wood fire in the air. The villagers are all up and about early lighting their stoves. 

We say good morning to the man with anger management issues who is out collecting his breakfast eggs from the hen coop.  He is due to have his first shot at the end of the month. ' They've started to make the vaccine in France' he adds as if a locally produced vaccine will somehow make everything right as rain. By the pond the builders teenage son greets us with a half hearted grunt of recognition- he's been told to get up and bring in logs from the wood pile. He drags a trolley along behind him in that ennui infused manner of all  sixteen year olds spending Easter with their parents . Seems the online  school system has been hacked so his Easter holiday homework schedule remains satisfyingly inaccessible.

The new mayor stops his white van , winds down the window and greets Sophie. He's in no hurry to move. I ask him how he likes his new job. ' A lot of responsibility but I cope '.  He then goes on to add ' The good thing is I've got broad shoulders and I don't lose any sleep over it'. This is a strange comment from a man who opens up the town hall at three in the morning to do his paperwork.

Flights from the US to the UK are set to begin again next month . Going here this September might move from being a dream to a manageable reality ? :https://www.unionsquarecafe.com/

Or this ? 'The Fonts' favourite and a deeply intelligent wine list :https://www.aquavit.org/

Documentation.

The lockdown, our third, now firmly in place. Even Sophie finds it quiet. The cars have largely gone but half a dozen tractors pass along the lane during the course of the day. She rushes to the gate to greet each one. She also rediscovers the joys of rolling in the freshly cut grass along the ox track. This is a trick that can be repeated again and again ... and again.

Having had our first Pfizer jab we receive a text calling us in for our second dose on May 4th. It seems that the government has recognized that its priority is vaccinating folk no matter what it takes. It also seems to have recognized that the over 60 age group is large and turns out en masse  to vote. The Presidential elections are just over a year away.

Even more amazingly Angus gets an e-mail inviting him in to renew his residency permit. Brexit means that new 'alien' documents have to be issued, This requires a trip to the departmental capital to have finger prints taken and documentation checked - again. The thought of having to spend a morning in a low ceilinged , poorly ventilated office is unenticing but is now , thanks to the vaccine, a manageable danger. The first appointment available is in May so there is plenty of time.

 What an interesting house :https://twitter.com/HiraethResists/status/1378471598550777860

It's free

Easter Monday. A nationwide lockdown now in place. On our morning walk a blue gendarmes van passes us but doesn't stop.  The only traffic we see in forty five minutes.  A reminder to print out the permits that allow us to be within 6 miles of our front door. 

A start of day chat with men in dark suits. Ukraine this mornings top concern. We're at that stage in a new Presidency when the worlds mischief makers see how much leeway they have. The Manhattanites also show great interest in the vaccine roll out. The US dollar has been strong on the back of 4 million doses a day in the US. By contrast the Euro has been weak as it becomes apparent that things won't be back to normal in time for the start of the all important summer holiday period in Spain.  While I chat Sophie positions herself outside the front door to deal with any C-A-T-S that might dare to wander by.

Yesterdays vaccination process went smoothly. We showed up five minutes ahead of time and were told to fill out a one page medical history form ( rather simpler than the 8 pager the Germans require ). Neither of us has a pen. The receptionist lends us one but only after she tuts loudly and informs us that ' in France people usually bring their own pens'. After that  were ushered into a very white and very modern waiting room with an enormously high ceiling. Everyone was masked up although one lady seemed to think it was only her mouth that needed to be covered.  'The Font' was in and out in three minutes. Angus took seventeen minutes, but only because the doctor wanted to have a long chat about whether I thought the Greens rather than the CDU could win the German elections. Interestingly, the doctor sat behind a desk and chatted while the bad tempered receptionist administered the injection. The doctor and a colleague ( and the receptionist ) are scheduled to do 160 vaccinations a day , every day, for the next month. Two doctors at the surgery will be vaccinating full time, while the remaining two will carry on dealing with 'general' problems. The whole process will start again for second jabs in May. The doctor says that he hasn't had one local refuse to be vaccinated. 'It's free' he says by way of explanation. The doctor and receptionist are thanked for working during their Easter Sunday lunch hour.

After that we sat outside in the car park for a quarter of an hour to make sure there were no side effects. This morning 'The Font' has a sore shoulder. Angus is as right as rain. Both of us are simply delighted to have started the path back to normality. In fact that's not true. We're not simply delighted to have been vaccinated , we're DELIGHTED !!! to have had the jab.

 

The local remedy.

A perfect Easter morning. The sun rising as we set off round the village. By the time we've greeted the goats and donkeys - and the two horses in the field by the churchyard - we're walking along under an almost cloudless blue sky.  Today is vaccination day .

The strawberry lady has started picking Gariguettes. We buy four punnets. For the next month we'll have them for breakfast every day. Even though it's barely gone seven there's a line of cars at the farm gate. All are large, shiny SUV's with 75 registration plates. Parisians all.  We wait for them to leave before we venture out.

The pollen thick this morning. A carpet of the stuff on the breakfast table. Angus starts to sneeze and there are no hay fever tablets in the house. 'The Font' heads off to the pharmacy. Seems Angus isn't the only one suffering. This year the pollen levels are abnormally high and they've sold out completely of antihistamines. ' We'll be getting a delivery in on Tuesday . I've never known anything like it. Everyone came in at once ' says the lady behind the counter. As an alternative she recommends a local remedy - which she claims will solve the problem . This turns out to be a dark gelatinous treacle like product made from wild plantain. Words cannot describe the taste. https://www.woodland-ways.co.uk/blog/hedgerow-medicines/hedgerow-treatments-for-hayfever/

It also has the surprising side effect of being a ferocious and quick acting laxative - or perhaps purgative might be a better description.  'Takes your mind off a runny nose' says 'The Font'.

 Best way to start a day :https://twitter.com/Nature_Is_Lit/status/1377395307885912064

The colour, the music and the camera angles. This could only be Easter in Moscow :https://youtu.be/qVxhXzu4qSM?t=3416

For those unsung heros carrying on, unrecognized,  in difficult circumstances - here's a rather lonely organist playing Handel at the empty Kirk in Chennai on a blisteringly hot Easter Sunday morning :https://youtu.be/dGveAsWbCWo?t=110

Pinata

Two swans command Sophie's attention this morning.  Our walk by the river comes to a complete halt while she watches them swim by. For a moment I wonder if she's going to charge into the water but she accepts their presence with equanimity. Her attention is diverted by  the arrival of a friendly mutt with a red collar. 

On our way home we stop off at the frozen food store. That early rising dog owners 'first customer in' thing . Angus picks up four large bags of garden peas to last through lockdown. He also makes one of two spur of the moment purchases . Whoever knew that Pinata Cakes were a thing ? Or, to be more precise, an American thing ?

The Old Farmers lady friend has brought a touch of glamour to his garden. Four tulips appear in his concrete trough that fronts the lane ( and The Rickety Old Farmhouse ).

Sophie spends a part of the morning perfecting her ' stare at the door and it will open ' routine. It always works .

Today there will be a full on muzzle trimming. Those whiskers contain half of France profonde. Her coat was done last week but excessive 'squirming' accompanied by loud complaints meant that the face was left until later. 

Israel seems to be in a good place with the pandemic. Perhaps in the autumn we shall aim for a long weekend here : https://slh.com/hotels/the-american-colony-hotel

Who'd have thought it ? :https://twistedsifter.com/2021/03/1930-indiana-bell-building-move/