Sunday, 17 August 2014


THE SUN IS SHINING. The bloody sun is shining. And its hot.    Wrinkly of Richmond is wrinkled again. I have nuked my body into pink submission. I don't care. I wanted to have a golden glow at the end of this break (its NOT a holiday, its an 'experience') so I laid on the lawn in the front of the house and soaked up the rays having practiced yoga for an hour (loved it).  

I went to the market in Najac and bought honey which says on the label its local but it could be from Sainsbury all I know and a load of beans which are French.

Read and wrote some more then noticed the mole is back. I am happy for moles. I have nothing against them as long as they are not anywhere near where I live.   Tom would probably say that makes me a mole racist.    I love wildlife but having got into the nuking thing with my body, I was quite happy to nuke this bloody thing thats making holes in my lawn.    It can make Great Escape tunnels all I care, as long as it doesn't create great big mud piles in the process.  I've got this little kit full of explosives (I kid you not) which literally blows them up.  I've got quite good at it.     I've already killed one, and I've set the trap for another one.   Not very Disney I admit, but then nor was killing Bambi's mother.   And I say a little prayer for them, so very Avatar. I've been saying little prayers for all the trees I've cut down in the back garden, although the brambles I tell to go ** themselves.  

I've had fire, floods, so the sun had to come at some stage I suppose. And then there was music.  A concert in the chapel in the hamlet. It's only a little hamlet.  Absolutely beautiful.   Only disturbed by the odd rock concert and classical ensemble, sort of a miniature Glastonbury.   And then there are the frogs and ducks that mate very loudly till the cows come home (they do at seven every day) in the local pond.  They must be exhausted.    

At five or thereabouts I walked down to the chapel.   The sun was shining still and heat still rising.    I listened to the beautiful music. The hamlet cat was meowing for company. There was a French man with three noisy children he'd obviously taken out of the concert but needed to take them further as they were so loud. Where is a silencer when you need one?  I pinched two (ok probably more) warm damsons from the tree the local lady uses to make eau de vie hoping she won't see me.    The day turned into some kind of wonderful.

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