Nets

When in France, it seems best to do as the French do. So here are the French style nets, plus the French style teckel slumbering on the doorstep. Now I shall continue the theme by going and cracking open another bottle of red wine, kissing the postman when he arrives, and donning my flowered overall and completing an afternoon of heavy manual labour in the nearest field.

Remembering

It's a year now to the day pretty much since my sister died. I miss her most for walking and talking and laughing. Within a short space of time, I have lost a Niece, my Sister, and my Mum.

In the meantime, the plants here are struggling up above the weeds when all I've done is to water them from time to time. It's strange how sometimes the urge for things to live and grow can be so indefatigable and at other times, life can slip away and any efforts to retain it are as futile as trying to hold water in your hands. For myself, I've made up my mind to live for a very very long time. It's not a perfect world but I like it.

Cruelty and Destruction

Hurrah! I am successfully rearing livestock at last. These attractive caterpillars are reducing some of the cabbage leaves to an attractive and delicate pattern of lattice work. Fascinating. Since there are 12 cabbages and they are all maturing at the same time, and I'm not a great fan of cabbage, I'm not panicking and hopefully there will be plenty for all. In the meantime, Mackerel the cat has been gently torturing this little mouse this afternoon. Time was, I would have rescued the mouse-but living here in a house which was once riddled with rats and their pissy residue has caused me to change my ways. You never know, perhaps Mackerel was just having a bit of a chat with this mouse. My children had this story book once where a cat and some mice lived in a church together and they were all great friends and had huge adventures. The mouse was squeaking a lot so perhaps it was just relating it's life story to the cat.

The rights and the wrongs of things

Well-I don't know what's right or wrong any more really. It seems that it's perfectly acceptable for MP's to make a mockery of expenses claims, and for Caroline Flint to portray herself as a paragon of feminist virtues. So in this fluid world, it seems quite acceptable to allow a small dog to claim a plush chicken as it's toy. The only trouble is that the chicken has an in-built squeak whenever it's squeezed. It's little flippers (do chicks have flippers?) hang down pathetically out of Franck's mouth whilst he carries it round. It's a pathetic and rather worrying sight. M has only been away for four days so far and I have already managed to break the mower. it seems I have probably managed to burn out the clutch in a fit of over-exuberant mowing on the first dry spell after many days of torrential downpours. "There is no cure" M tells me mournfully over the phone. "I had a premonition this would happen". Why can't he have premonitions about useful, or jolly things? I fight back tears. i had so wanted to be able to do everything.

Mums and babies

We are currently minding our neighbours' animals for them-including the very proud momma sheep at the top here and her new(ish) baby. Now I know for a fact that my daughter is (quite rightly) very proud of both her lovely children but I don't think even she could beat the way this momma is proudly showing off her baby. But then something tells me that this sheep isn't going to be mothering for quite as long as my daughter is....nasty neighbours!