At the End of the Day

I had a wonderful time in Cahors over the weekend, driving along the south bank of the Lot river as far as Puy L’Eveque, where firm friends Carol & Hugh entertained me royally. I regard this as a huge compliment given they have been confirmed republicans (in the European sense) all their lives. When the company is stimulating enough, I skip the siesta and drink about two-thirds less: thus did I sleep like an oak beam left at the bottom of the Bristol channel following the rescue of a Henry VIII warship.

Driving back along the other bank this Sunday morning, I took a shot of the river at Fumel, with the Cathedral in the background:


When I got back to Slogger’s Roost, Number 1 priority was clearing the old wood and broken roof tiles from the old barn area. But wasps are what happen to you when you’re busy making other plans.

Almost every tile and plank lifted released a swarm of angry guepes infuriated by an obvious attempt to effect radical slum clearance without informing the residents. I beat a hasty retreat, and spent the rest of the afternoon nursing stings to the left ear, right bicep, left thigh, right ankle and both shoulders.

A day of otherwise gentle pottering followed: some grass cutting, some cutting watering, some chicken cooking, some creeper trimming and some pool dunking. It was 38° here this afternoon, and higher temperatures lie ahead this week. The skies are clear, and the veg are ripening:

DSCN1193The entire aubergine crop in all its glory

Tonight I sat and thought for a bit, and then I just looked:


I kept looking for Rhett Butler driving the coach for Scarlett as the Yankees burned old Dixie down, but he was nowhere to be seen. Frankly my dears, I didn’t give a damn so long as nature continued on its fiery dance.

How hugely removed this normality is from the bilge being baled out from the SS Eunatic. I don’t share the politics put forward by the left-end of the Syriza spectrum; but I do cleave wholeheartedly to this extract from the Yanis Varoufakis blog today:

Can democracy and a monetary union coexist? Or must one give way? This is the pivotal question that the Eurogroup has decided to answer by placing democracy in the too-hard basket

This weekend at The Slog: Sources say Syriza is printing Drachmas