Last weekend in this part of France we had "bohcohdanondaseeons” – that means lots of floods to you guys who don’t speak French as well as me. And we had terrible wind at the weekend. (No, I’m not going to make a funny pun, that’s the type of thing puerile Uncle Hugh would do). That photo above is of a restaurant that mum & Uncle Hugh sometimes go to for Sunday Lunch. There’s normally a lovely patio, beautiful gardens and a car park at the back. I reckon there won’t be a Sunday lunch for a while n’est-ce pas? Here's a close up:
And this is photo is of the fields we pass on one of our walks – no longer fields.
Anyway, this bad weather caused power cuts all over. We had no electric all morning on Sunday, and mum was having anxiety attacks thinking that she wouldn’t be able to use her dishwasher or her hair straighteners. I mean, I ask you, how can life continue without one’s hair straighteners? (Henry rolls his eyes, shakes his head and sighs) At the time of her anguish, I did think that there are folk in the world who haven’t even GOT electricity. Who’ve never heard of a dishwasher or hair straighteners, but who still manage to survive. Honestly, she is a bit of a wussy girl sometimes.
Our electricity came back mid-morning, but three days after and there were still lots of folk without it. As I said before, things take a long time in France, you see, they have to stop for two-hour lunch breaks – it’s obligatory. Nothing comes between a French workman and his ‘plat du jour’. Nothing! Mum has often joked that the worst time to have a house fire in France is between the hours of 12 and 2.
We still managed to go out for a walk though. Nothing comes between me and my walk. I INSIST on having my walk. Except that when it’s really ‘bucketing’ down, as mum puts it, the walk only lasts about ten minutes.
Here’s a little clip of me getting all excited about my walk (it's very short & you get to see mum's grey socks & messy kitchen):