My mop and I might have found a new career in pool cleaning. Whilst I’m still battling the spots of algae that appear daily in our piscine, our neighbours now have a crystal clear body of water to swim in thanks in part to my trusty tool. I’d gone over to their place at the beginning of the week to help Denis tidy up their garden, only to find out that their pool was thick with the green goop that of which Ian had almost given up on getting out. He’d tried every product available but the stuff wasn’t shifting. Having suggested we might have a go with the ‘Sophi’ technique, the two of us got out our weapons of war and got sponging. With a little help from the anti-algae blaster that I keep in the poolhouse, all was cleared just in time for their guests and next month, the new owners. Yes, sadly the wonderful Mandy and Ian are moving back to the UK in a few weeks so Arry won’t be able to have arguments with Mina their dog over the back fence anymore. I am told the newbies have a pooch though so Arry shouldn’t be too upset for long.
Speaking of upsets, I managed to injure a finger again. Not a spider bite this time, instead I got snagged by a carnivorous courgette plant. Denis was showing me why our green variety weren’t growing (the flowers needed manual pollination apparently), when I got bit. For those who aren’t familiar with the foliage of such culinary yumminess, they have teeny tiny needles hidden in their depths. I didn’t think much about it at the time – you’d think I’d have learnt from my encounter with the evil araignée a couple of years ago not to let the wound fester but no. My finger swelled up angrily and if it wasn’t for Laetitia who owns the vineyard up the road being a former nurse, I might have ended up in the emergency room. She deftly sliced into my infected digit and squeezed the yuck out. Alas she couldn’t get to the spike as we didn’t have any anaesthesia and my pain threshold was already at max but it’s looking better already. I’ll nip into the doctors on Tuesday just to make sure.
Despite my idiotic injury, D and I have had a busy week in the socialising sense. Friday was July 14th, a national celebration in France. It commemorates the storming of The Bastille in 1789 and is mainly marked by a whole lot of firework displays over famous monuments. Since most of us oldies didn’t relish the idea of getting crushed by the crowds in Carcassonne, or trying to get out of the city afterwards, we went up the hill opposite Laetitia’s place – it has a jaw-dropping view of the citadel, albeit from a distance. I have to say it was great fun sitting on rickety garden chairs, drinking wine and watching the whizz bangs in the otherwise pitch dark even if the whole spectacle only lasted about 20 minutes. Watching all the traffic headlights trying to get out of the city limits afterwards was an added bonus though. We only had to manoeuvre our way through the potholes our hill road is legendary for.
If Friday night was all about snap, crackle and pop – last night was more about elegance and taking it easy. It started with an apero dinatoire hosted by some friends of Mumo’s over in St-Hilaire. Big brother Simon and his wife, Alba, were also there. Since Denis and I couldn’t stay long, we had another do to go to, we took a chance to see Michel and Francoise’s very formal but utterly gorgeous garden accompanied by their overly-enthusiastic Doberman before sitting down for a classy glass. Poor Michel got terribly flustered trying to get everything perfect so knowing D and I had to go, he offered us the dessert bit first in the shape of a rather liquidy sorbet.
“Don’t worry, I have burnt all the alcohol off ” he assured me as a took a sip.
Well, I don’t know what he burnt off but it certainly wasn’t the neat vodka that ripped its way down my throat. Had it been the night before, I’d have lit up the night sky myself.
Thankfully, my poor oesophagus recovered with the rest of the evening spent chilling back and chatting with familiar faces over at Abraham’s place whilst watching the rain gently soak the parched earth and wondering if I would have to clean the bloody pool again this morning…
““In wine there is wisdom, in beer there is Freedom, in water there is bacteria.” ( Benjamin Franklin)
Widow plus woofs 