Any trip to the vet fills me with dread. Every time I go in there, my debit card shudders as anything wanted usually has to be multiplied by 9. And then there’s all the special dietary purchases for Yogi, Aragorn and Coco Loco – naturally only available chez veto and naturally, expensive. On the plus side, I think living out in the countryside instead of the city keeps them healthy and for the most part, fit. It occurred to me the other night whilst I was writing The Book (now ready for the third edit), that all but three of the woofers are now over a decade old – time has suddenly crept up on them along with achy bones and arthritis. Mind you, with the exception of Gizmo who, at over 14 now rarely leaves his bed, they still run around the garden and chase each other through the hedges. Sherman’s youthful exuberance helps.
Speaking of old treasures, Denis and I went on a bit of a scouting trip earlier in the week to find some climbers for the planters at the bottom of the wall and a something in the furniture department to put in the remis. Off we went in Denis’ ancient camionette (a sort of cross between a small van and a car) bouncing across the back roads to the garden centre chatting away as usual, and got lost. As usual. Noticing a couple of elderly ladies passing by, my chauffeur stopped to ask directions and after a brief but animated conversation, we continued our little trek. As it turned out, we were on the right road (let’s face it, there was only one) and only a couple of minutes away from our destination;
“I could have told you that, I’ve got my phone map open” I pointed out to Denis as we ejected out of another pothole (I think the suspension went with the last century)
“Yes but we’ve given those ladies something exciting to talk about for the rest of the day” he smiled in reply.
I looked in the rear view mirror. There they were gesticulating and laughing as our little faded-yellow machine spluttered off into the distance. I think we made their day and after having bought a couple of deep red climbing roses and a couple of other florals to finish our project, we headed for home via Adolf’s place.
Adolf is a sort of cross between Arthur Daley and Indiana Jones – the latter only because his second-hand shop is an Aladdin’s cave of hidden wonders if you can get get through all the scrap first. You also need to have a Denis with you when searching through the dusty enclaves as prices tend to increase if you’re a) not local and b) not French. Luckily for me, Adolf seems to like me and I do have my right hand man and I did find a stunning sideboard – at a steal according to our patron (probably what it should have cost in the first place but he had to try). I’ll get Mumo to have a look at it next week and hope she isn’t swayed by Adolf’s latest hobby – painting Mickey Mouse or Frida Kahlo or both, on doors.
Aside from rummaging through cobwebs and roving around the idyllic Aude countryside, I haven’t really done much in the past week apart from finishing the last bits of The Book (again). We still haven’t had any decent rain so if I’m not up early to run, I’m up early to water the garden. Replenishing the bird feeders has become an almost daily task, with little vegetation around I doubt there are enough insects to go around judging by the frenzied fight for fat balls. According to the long-term weather forecast, things are set to change at the end of next week – we can but hope. At least we haven’t had to whack up the radiators which is just as well as we had a huge water bill land in our post box mid-week. I know we had a leak in the bloody pool but the amount they wanted would have filled it three times over. Mumo and I decided to test the meter overnight meaning I checked it last thing before bed and then re-checked first thing in the morning. We definitely have a non-pool fissure somewhere and judging by the looks of the early morning risers as they passed a pyjama-clad figure shining her mobile phone down a hole outside our front gate – there was plenty to talk about in Rouffiac for the rest of the day…
“A road need not be paved in gold to find treasures at its end” (Alan Brennert)
Widow plus woofs 