Pinnies

You just can't be a lady and do lady's things properly without having a good selection of pinnies. You can keep your clothes clean, wipe your hands on your pinny, or wipe a child's face with it, or waft it at your man in the manner of an exotic temptress. Having said all this, I have never had a waist pinny before -not until my daughter made this one and sent it to me for my birthday. What a clever girl. Also pictured is the fruit salad and biscuits I made today whilst wearing my pinny. To be honest, I think the pinny is not exactly flattering to my hip curves, but whilst doing ladies things there is no harm in looking womanly I feel. The material is certianly very attractive and the patch pocket is invaluble.

A gift

Yesterday I had a very nice suprise when Georges the postman brought this parcel up to the house ( he always does this-can he have noticed the post box?) containing this picture which my son (also here pictured) had painted and sent to me for my birthday. It makes a lovely splash of colour in the kitchen. I thought perhaps I should return the gesture by making him something for his birthday whch is fairly soon. perhaps I could knit him a cardi or sing a song for him. Although I think this might result in him repeating the expression in this photo.

Maurice the Toad

Maurice is our pet toad. ('crapaud' in Maurice's native tongue-'how unfortunate' I tell him). Maurice lives periodically in our garage and chose to pose for this photo whilst sitting in M's sander. Maurice has been keen to learn a little English and since I am always keen to improve my French, we have been discussing our lives from time to time in a kind of Franglais toadish patois. Maurice regards himself basically as being on the centre right, (although not a fan of Sarkozy) he still smokes, and he has 84 grandchildren. His wife died last Summer. He feels they were a good partnership but, since her death (perhaps toads are a little more prosaic than us about such matters) he has found himself reminiscing about the past. When he was a young toad of just two summers, he met another lady toad, Marianne, at the annual spawning. He was utterly bowled over by the pattern of her warts, the articulation of her gait, and the hoarseness of her croak (she, too, was a smoker whereas this was a habit he always had to conceal from his wife). They linked hands, they sat next to one another by the pond in the moonlight, and Maurice felt his heart grow so big in his chest that he was unable to croak despite the beauty of the evening. They made their vows, and their agreed to meet again each and every year and raise a family together. Well Maurice returned to the pond at each spawning (as a toad surely must) for a full five years before he accepted that Marianne was not returning. He never found out what happened to her. He can't say that his his life was ruined, but he felt he would never experience the same kind of love for another toad again-and he hasn't. He tells his grandchildren about the importance of living for the moment, and acting on your strongest feelings but of course they don't listen-they're young, and too busy waddling round puffing theemselves up. m
Maurice lifts his hands upwards beside his face and shrugs-it is the classic gallic gesture 'What can you do?' he asks the garden spider who has been eavesdropping. 'We were all the same when we were young. We thought we had all the time in the world..."

Birthday Activities

It was my birthday today. I have spent much of the day licking these potato plants into some form of shape and discipline. I gave them a stern talking to and they immediately fell into line. Good thing too. But I still have yet to rescue the cabbages from their grassy graves and the carrots also are getting overwhelmed. Franck sat on the doorstep whilst i had my coffee time and later I found Mackerel the cat looking rather surprised when he awoke and realised he'd fallen asleep on a sunny windowsill, next to a little model cat.

Suitability

I think that it's amazing that these potato plants have grown so much when I only put them in the ground 8 weeks ago. Nor did we dig in any manure or suchlike. It's a little miracle really. And also a little overwhelming when you realise I have 60 plants all this size and there are only two of us living here-I hadn't realised about staggering them. Never mind. Meantimes, Franck has been busy doing what a teckel does best and following his nose around the garden. How he manages without bumping it I shall never know.He is the ideal shape for this kind of rootling activity. Perhaps all our body shapes are trying to tell us something about what we should be doing.

the chicken shed roof

Two or three momths ago, there was a stormy evening-and the apple tree which had stood next to this little building fell down, it fell onto the roof, making numerous holes-big and small. So today, four other chaps came and helped M put the new roof on. it was a fantastically sunny day. Whe a building gets exposed like this, you find yourself wondering how old it is-and who cut the joints and fitted the beams together. Why are there little alcoves in the granite wall at the back? When it was built did a group of men get together to help each other out in the same way? And did they also sit in the sunshine to eat their lunch whilst discussing life, love, and the best way of approaching the task of the day?

Babies and floors

This is not the best ever photo of my splendid and lovely grand-daughter who I have been busy visiting in England, along with also visiting her Mummy, Daddy, and her big brother and her Uncle. On the other hand, it's a pretty good pic here of M in action helping his pal Bill out with his concreting. (Bill having helped us out with numerous things before now-not least on a hideous day when it took hours and lots of people to get our drain unblocked) Unfortuantely, the shutter action on my camera is a bit slow, and it's quick-drying cement, and I hate mucky socks, so M is still there, but just looking a bit less jolly now.