The New Citroen Picasso

I used to own a 2CV. It was blue, had orange boxes for seats, and was absolutely wonderful.

I remember once heading off for England in it. My very good friend, Lucienne, kept saying "You'll never make it". However, I did, and without a hitch. I really don't know why I sold it. 

I've also owned a Renault 4L, which in many ways was Renault's version of the 2CV. I also went up to England and back with it several times, and just once had alternator trouble; which was quickly fixed.

So, my question is this. Why do manufacturers not make simple cars any more? Both the 2CV and the 4L had very simple engines, they had spark plugs that one could easily clean, and they had distributors that one could open up and make sure the 'points' were all working. After that it was petrol, oil, and water, and a decent battery. OK, they didn't go very fast or have heated seats and Sat Nav, but they were fun to drive and were reliable. 

My current car, Debi the Compact Royce, is about as 'sophisticated' as I want. She has electric windows and a few other bits of advanced technology, but she certainly isn't like a 'plane's cockpit. When I turn the key I go; unlike those (in more complex cars) who sit for five minutes setting all the gadgets, Sat Nav destination, seat temperature, etc.

Why doesn't some manufacturer make a simple chassis with engine, steering wheel, brakes, etc, onto which one could fix any type of fiberglass bodywork. It could have a sports body, an all-terrain body, and mini-moke body, or just an OAP's shopping body. You'd make your choice according to your personality. What could be easier (and more popular) than that!

Oh; and it would have to sell for around £4,000.

 

Bougnette.

My friend, the artist Simon Fletcher, and his lovely wife Julie, have just been on a short visit.

Knowing my love of Bougnette, Julie brought us a couple from her favourite butcher down in the Languedoc; where they live.

Bougnette is one of those regional specialities that comes from when times were hard, and one made the most of what one had. Occasionally such dishes are totally delicious, as in this case.

Ingredients include bread, seasoned belly pork, and eggs. They are already cooked but before eating they are sliced in half and fried (no oil necessary).

The two photos above are actually from 2016 when we last had them (I forgot to take photos last night).

You won't find these just anywhere, they are exclusive to the Languedoc. However, if you should be down that way; try them. Just ask for Boon-Yet.

Thank you Julie. They were delicious. I also note that the wine you brought was made in your honour!

No! Surely not!

I have just heard that the fragrant Angela Rayner (Britain's deputy Prime Minister) has bought a flat in Brighton. This ultra left-winger now has THREE homes (one of which is 'grace and favour').

So much has been written over the past few days about the hypocrisy of this woman, that I shall not add to her obvious embarrassment. 

I can't really blame her for wanting to live in Brighton, it must be quite a change from her grim Ashton-Under-Lyne (Manchester) residence. A genuine breath of fresh sea air!

We have a friend who'll be a neighbour, and I am told that she's already been seen about town quite a lot in recent times (MP's are on holiday). People in her constituency aren't happy that she's never there, and with her new pad on the South Coast, they fear they'll never see her again.

I must point-out that this woman is constantly moaning about the shortage of housing; yet she now has TWO of her own, plus another that she is loaned. She is also allowing councils to sell-off their allotments to builders, in order to try to provide desperately needed housing for those who don't even have one home!.

If I see her whilst dog-walking, I shall not be doffing my cap, or asking for a 'selfie'; I shall leave the poor thing alone. In fact I doubt if many would even bother to greet her. 

A classic 'do as I say, not as I do' character. From a 16 year old 'single mum' to second-home owning top leftie politician, I would say 'the gal done good'. Just heaven help us if she ever became Prime Minister.

She'll have some very well known neighbours around her seaside pad, although I quite expect they'll keep well clear of her!

 

Fashion.

Fashion is often more about what hasn't been done before, rather than what is pleasant to look at, or wear. This chap here is showing a classic example.

I did once myself enter the world of fashion. I designed a watch strap based on a tailor's measuring tape. One even appeared on the front cover of Vogue magazine. It brought me no fame! The only reason I designed it (or thought of it) was because it hadn't been done before. I never intended to become the King of watch straps.

The annual fashion shows of the big-name couturiers have become a farce, with Z-list celebs all occupying the front row seats in their sunglasses, and the models hardly able to walk in the ridiculous 'creations'. They have become more comedy shows than serious fashion exhibitions. And as for the models.........

I know what you're thinking. Would Cro go to Sainsbury's wearing the above outfit? Well the answer is twofold. If I was being paid; yes! If I wasn't being paid; no!

 

Bucolic news

You might just about see my neighbour's SIX Blonde d'Aquitaine cows in the middle/left of the picture below. They have recently been joined by a small flock of Egrets.

Agriculture is in a pretty poor state here at the moment. There are still a few cows about, but otherwise not much happens. The sunflowers are a joint affair between non land owners and farmers, and some maize is grown. Otherwise hay is just about the only universal crop; but for who they make it, I'm not sure. Much of it remains in the fields until it turns black, then it is taken away somewhere to rot.

I know three local farmers whose farms will come to a full stop when they either retire or die; there is no-one to take over whatever farming is still done.

So much good productive land is now left to grow weeds and brambles; it really is a very sad sight. Just 50 or so years ago when I first arrived in my village it was a very different affair. There were vines everywhere, fields of wheat tobacco and maize, pigs, ducks, geese, and huge veg patches that grew everything the family needed to get through the whole year. Every farm was self-sufficient, but, at the same time, I imagine that no-one took a regular salary.

They still do harvest chestnuts. It is a favourite crop of local farmers as it really takes no work other than mowing maybe twice a year; then much of the harvesting is done in Autumn by noisy machines.

It is rare these days to see a chicken or a duck in a farmyard; and as for pigs, they are long gone.

I cannot understand what the government thinks it's doing. Why import so much food when it could easily be home grown? There is so much perfectly good productive land that is simply doing nothing, and there are so many knowledgeable famers who are simply twiddling their thumbs.

There are two large fields within a few yards of our cottage that have been left unproductive. This one above, which is about 3 acres of really good flat arable land, and another bigger one in front of us that has been completely over-run by Brambles and small trees. Such fields are not exclusive to around us; they are everywhere.

Many of the more entrepreneurial farmers embraced tourism and have restored old houses, or converted farm buildings into holiday accommodation; but even this is now in peril. The EU is making it more difficult for British tourists to come to France, and I've seen very few Dutch cars around. As for those tourists who used to visit Spain, they are now looking elsewhere; where they and their Pounds or Euros are more welcomed. 

Decent restaurants are becoming rarer here, and there is very little for a tourist family to do. There seems little reason to come here any more. It used to be such a popular destination.

I find it all very sad.

love & marriage -vicar of dibley

The Vicar of Dibley was a UK comedy classic, with wonderful characters, wonderful scripts, and a feeling of social-realism that village-dwellers everywhere would recognise as perfect.

All the main characters are present for this wonderful wedding, and just in case you don't know, the two 'bridesmaids' are dressed as characters from the children's TV show 'Teletubbies'.

An absolute classic of its time. Even if you don't know the characters, enjoy.

Lamb (the meat)

The older I get, the more my appetite seems to shrink. I still enjoy both cooking and eating, but my preferences get fewer and fewer. These days I am very happy with the simplest of pasta meals, or a basic mushroom Omelette. 

However, I am still a meat eater, and I do enjoy Chicken, Pork, Beef (if I can afford it), and most of all Lamb.

I'm not talking here of big Legs of Lamb, or Shoulders, but what I consider to be the best cut of all; Breast of Lamb. It is the most flavoursome cut, and is very tender; it also tends to be the cheapest.

This (above) is how it tends to come in the UK; at Sainsbury's anyway. Rolled, wrapped, and 'gentrified'. It looks like a ready to roast joint. All neat and tidy, and wrapped in plastic. Not really how I like to buy it.

This (above) is how I prefer it to come; in an untouched natural lump. I usually cut it into two bits and put one half in the freezer for a later date.

And finally here is how I buy it in France, from my Leclerc supermarket. Again in a lump (as from 'Taj'), but usually as half-sized pieces. 

A short while on the BBQ, a small sprinkling of salt and cumin powder, and I'm in heaven. A side serving of Flageolet Beans, or some Taboulé, completes the perfect Summer meal.

And the best way to eat sliced cutlets of Breast of Lamb? With your fingers of course!

21st C Pirates.

We've all seen them. These masked, black clad, E-bike riders, from distant lands, who scour the streets looking for mobile phones, handbags, and watches. They have become the scourge of our streets. No doubt the man on the right of the photo was just about to lose his phone!

I remember on one occasion, when I was taking Billy for a walk, there were two characters just like these two above, lining up side by side on a quiet street. Suddenly they both took off at a terrifying speed, racing each other; the acceleration was startling. I had no idea that those electric bikes could go so fast.

When these people steal your phone or watch, you wouldn't stand a chance of catching them, they'd be hundreds of yards away before you even knew what had happened.

Personally I think that such people should be arrested BEFORE they commit crimes. Just the wearing of black face masks, gloves, etc, suggests they're up to no good; no-one else goes out dressed like that! Confiscate their bikes and crush them. We all know what they're up to.

Act first, and ask questions later.

 

UK Tomatoes

Before we came away in late May, I planted a couple of Tomato plants in our bijou front garden (about 2 Sq m's).

One was a Roma cooking tomato, and the other was a Marmande type salad tomato. The Roma are really going crazy with lots of ripe fruit, and the other should be ripening just as we return.

I wish now I'd put in more plants, the tiny area could accommodate at least four plants; next year perhaps!

Tomatoes are the one vegetable that EVERYONE should grow. The difference between home grown and shop bought is amazing; they are almost like two different vegs. They grow well in big pots or grow bags. Or if you only have a window box, then the variety 'Tumbler' will grow well. 

Our next door neighbour also grows some. Maybe we'll have our own little two house Horticultural Show, with just one prize for the best Tomato. Perhaps we could encourage the whole street to grow some next year and have a really fun 'Best Tomato' competition in September.

If everyone started growing their own, we might even see an end to those horrible tasteless supermarket fruits. What dreadful things they are.

UNACCEPTABLE (moaning again)

I lived, and worked, in central London during the late 1960's, and in those days scenes such as below simply didn't exist; nor did they exist over the subsequent few decades.

In fact, had someone been found sleeping rough in an Oxford Street doorway, he or she would have been moved-on at once; we used to have 'bobbies on the beat' in those days.

Since the immigrant 'shanty town' in Hyde Park, opposite Park Lane, has finally been demolished (after several years), those same immigrants have simply moved up the road, and are sleeping-rough outside the big John Lewis store. They all seem to have nice white duvets and mattresses, but who is providing them is unclear. I'm sure the up-market store's management team can't be happy with the situation. 

Why have they not been either moved-on, or even deported? What do these people think they're doing? This is a major tourist area, in one of the world's greatest cities.

In Park Lane, the residents of the very expensive apartments overlooking the park complained that the squatters were peeing and pooing all over the place without shame. Eventually they were evicted, and all their rubbish taken away. Now the 40 or so (mostly, I believe, Romanians) have moved into the prestigious Oxford Street, where they spend their daytimes begging (or possibly picking a pocket or two).

These people have to be dealt with AT ONCE, not after lengthy 'enquiries' and hand-wringing. What is happening to central London is unacceptable.

p.s. If planning a trip to Oxford Street, remember NOT to take your mobile phone, your expensive watch, or anything in your pockets. If you intend buying anything keep your credit card in your shoe. A small pocket-sized Pepper Spray should be permanently held in your best squirting hand. This is no joke!

Kevin Ayers, May I? (2003 Remaster)

I first discovered Kevin Ayers at a concert in Guildford in around 1969-ish. It was a promotional tour concert for his album 'Shooting at the Moon' (from which 'May I' comes).

He is probably best known as the 'front man' with Soft Machine (who I always thought a better band than Pink Floyd). He and Syd Barrett later worked together.

This is a nice little song. A good tune, inoffensive lyrics, and with Mike Oldfield on Guitar, David Bedford on Keyboard, and the inimitable Lol Coxhill on Sax.

Ayers died back in 2013 here in Southern France. He was just 68, and died in his sleep (that's all we need to know). RIP.

Boo Hoo.

It really pains me to throw away all our Quinces, but they are beginning to fall, and I can't mow over big solid Quinces. Also, we can't leave them on the ground for the gardener to clear-up later. I am picking them one by one, and filling the wheelbarrow.

My mother used to make the most delicious Quince Jelly. It was a lengthy process, but it produced the most fragrant and beautifully coloured jelly. As a child it was my absolute favourite.

Sadly, these days, I have neither the urge nor the patience to make Quince jelly myself. It's just too much of a task. We used to cut them in quarters lengthwise, and roast them with Pork or Chicken, and they were delicious, but I can't even be bothered to do that any more. Cutting into them is like cutting into a block of iron.

So, they will go on the compost, and eventually be returned to the soil.

 

Church News.

 

Just before we came away to France, we received news that our local church priest, Father Dominic, was leaving. This came not long after hearing that his sidekick, Father Pete, was off to work in Cambridge.

Father Dominic knew that I wasn't a church-goer, but we always got on very well together, with a mutual love of dogs, and a concern for the local community. He knew that I only attended once a year, and that was for the Christmas Carol Service. I've always enjoyed singing carols.

Since this news, we haven't really heard who will be taking-over. I've seen the names 'Father Chris and Father David' mentioned but I don't know if they are simply 'locums' or are there permanently.

The 'Father' suffix suggests that the church is Catholic. Not at all, it is very much C of E, but, they say, in the Catholic tradition. Make of that what you will! 

Having the church so close, it does play quite a role in our lives. We hear the bells, and we walk through the churchyard on a daily basis. Lady M also occasionally helps-out on Wednesdays by making Tea for those who come to listen to the weekly afternoon music recitals. We also enter Billy in the annual Church Dog Show, side by side with all his friends. We may not be 'believers', but we do take part in the social side of church life.

As for the disappearance of Father Dominic, I don't like CHANGE of this sort, I much prefer that such positions were permanent. I believe he has gone to a new parish in West Sussex; Boxgrove Nr Chichester.

With a Bishop newly setting-up home in our street (who I have yet to meet), and a couple of new Priests in the church itself, I shall have a lot of catching-up to do when I get back.

Sunrise.

Whilst most of you are (probably) still in the Land of Nod, Cro is out there cleaning. I love this time of day, it's so calm and peaceful; even my daily cleaning chores become a pleasure.

Sweeping, tidying, extracting lizards from the skimmers; it's all in a morning's work. The actual pool itself remains remarkably clean, I only need to vacuum the bottom once every 3 or 4 days.

But it's not only cleaning which needs to be done. With our current daily temperatures of 38 C, the pool loses a lot of water to evaporation, and it needs to be topped-up every couple of days. All pool owners know that if the level falls too much, the skimmers will begin to suck in air rather than water, and this isn't good for the pump.

The pool water is around 28 C, it's a bit like swimming in warm oil. However, rather than stay indoors all day, we do throw ourselves in several times, just for light relief.

The above photo was taken at around 7.15 am, AFTER I'd finished my cleaning.

 

The final hurdle.

Our 2025 Jam-making campaign is now over. The Figs are just right for jam making, so I made three pots. The cupboard is now filled, and we shall enjoy the fruits of our labour throughout this winter.

I trimmed the Figs, quartered them, and weighed them. I prepared 650 gms, to which I added 400 gms of Jam Sugar.

Of course our Figs are not just for jam. They are lovely to eat off the tree, great in salads, and wonderful stewed with a dollop of ice cream.

We have at least four very big Fig trees, and the amount of fruit they produce annually is amazing. Mostly they are enjoyed by the Wasps, Hornets, and Birds. We just grab a few as we go past. Otherwise they are at their best just as we head north for Blighty. Such is life!

I think the Fig jam will go very well with some really good Extra Mature Cheddar.

So, that's it. No more jam making in 2025.

15. 8. 2025. FREEDOM DAY!!!

Our signal (above) from France's own wonderful 'ORANGE' internet and phone service (when, or if, it actually worked) was getting around 1Mb/s. Absolute rubbish, for which I was paying about 70 Euros a month. They should have been ashamed of themselves.

Since changing to Musk's 'STARLINK' we now get around 300 Mb/s, and there is no wavering in the quality of service we receive. It's brilliant, and we are paying about 40 Euros a month.

So, GOODBYE to Orange. August 15th is not only the French National Holiday, it's also the day we found our internet FREEDOM. As from today we have no landline phone (which was crackly and useless), but instead we have internet of the same quality as we have back in Brighton, from BT.  

Since internet connections are now available everywhere by satellite, I can see Orange going bust very soon. People don't use landline phones any more, and people won't tolerate the appalling Orange internet service. Good riddance to them! 

Le Quinze Aout will forever be a day of celebration in the Magnon household.

Viva Starlink; and viva Musk (but I wouldn't buy one of his cars).

Absinthe makes the heart grow weaker.

I was looking on 'Etsy' for Absinthe Glasses. I wanted to confirm that my own collection were in fact actual Absinthe Glasses, and not just ordinary wine glasses.

I came across this offer for THREE exactly like mine for £108. 

They are lovely glasses, and I use one daily for my evening glass or two of Piquette. 

I'm not sure exactly how many I have (below). I would always buy them at boot sales. I used to pay anywhere up to 20 Euros each for them, but I now see they are more like 40 Euros each. I shan't be buying any more.

I've decided to take four of them back to Brighton. We have plenty of glasses, but not all of them are one's I would ever use. I am quite particular about such things.

Drinking wine from such glasses makes all the difference; not unlike one's choice of plates or cutlery. A cheap wine can become delicious, and an ordinary meal a delight, simply by the right choice of table ware.

I do occasionally drink Ricard Pastis, but I have never tasted Absinthe. I imagine that they taste very similar, but are of different strengths. Absinthe is often over 70% proof.

Here, below, is another picture that I've just found of similar glasses to mine with an early Absinthe Fountain. It also shows a lump of sugar on a special Absinthe spoon.

Perhaps I should have bought more!

Birthday prezzie SURPRISE.

 

It was my birthday last month, and whilst Wills was in Zurich he visited the world famous Bucherer store.

So, I am now the owner of a really lovely new (pre-used) watch.

I haven't worn a watch for decades. I've relied on either Lady M, a big clock in the kitchen, or the bells from our nearby village church; and in the UK much the same other than I don't have a big clock in the kitchen.

Wills bought me an Oyster Perpetual Datejust. A simple but very elegant watch, that amazingly came with two 'Teaspoons' made by the same famous maker; very chic!

I really wasn't expecting a birthday present, let alone a watch. What a lovely, thoughtful, and generous boy he is.

I've said it before; I am really blessed with my two sons (and my daughter, of course). I really don't deserve them.

I shan't mention the make of the watch in case I get mugged! But it rhymes with 'smug bast*rd'.

Tommy Emmanuel, Jim Nichols, Richard Smith. I'll see you in my dreams.

I have always said that I prefer to listen to 'mediocre' live music, rather than perfectly played recorded music. Nothing compares to being there, and experiencing the moment.

However, this is almost as good as 'being there'. Watching these three masters of their craft playing this wonderful tune is a total pleasure. I admire their skill enormously. Three men, three guitars, and loads of genius, makes this video a classic in many respects. 

Enjoy.

Almost done!

There's a good side to everything, and in this case it's 'untidiness'.

Our farmers, and pathway-mowers, have been very lax this year, so for a change we have hedgerows filled with Blackberries. Usually, just before the fruits are ripe, along they come with their tractors and hedge cutters, and destroy everything.

We've very nearly finished our jam making for 2025, we have just the Fig jam to make, but for the moment they are reluctant to ripen.

It's hardly jam-making weather; it's about 38 C outside, but certain things cannot wait; one of which is jam making; especially berry-jams.

I've only made three jars, but that will be enough. With my third jar I made the mistake of using ordinary sugar instead of Jam sugar, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it'll set like the other two. (Later: It has set)

I would like to make some Fig jam, but I'll have to wait and see if they ripen in time. I think they need to be semi-ripe. Maybe it's a bad idea anyway.

So far we have Plum, Apricot, Greengage, and Blackberry Jams. That's probably enough.

The best time of day.

It's about 7 am. I've done all my laptop stuff, so I'm now off to do some outdoor cleaning.

Around the pool there are always leaves and dead flowers to be swept away, there are always a few creepy-crawlies etc floating on the water that need to be removed, and there are the two skimmers to be cleaned and refilled with tabs (if necessary).

It's warm and the early morning sunshine is hitting the 'pump house' wall. I wear just a pair of shorts; no shoes or T shirt. The whole 'beach' cleaning process takes about 15 mins, unless I'm vacuuming the bottom of the pool as well.

It's so quiet. I feel as if I'm the only person who's up and about. I sit on the bench in the quiet, and simply soak-up the atmosphere. I am often tempted to have an early morning swim, but as usual I'll leave that to pre-lunchtime.

With Kimbo, Wills, and Boo Boo now gone, it feels a little sad. However, I have lots of work to do, and we have friends arriving from Barbados. Before we know it, we'll be heading back to Blighty, for Autumn, Winter, and Christmas.

As I sit on the bench I try to fix the moment into my mind. I try to preserve the warmth, the view, and the whole ambiance, just like our Summer jams, to be opened and enjoyed at a later date.

Yesterday evening, as we were sitting by the pool, a small flock of Swallows flew down to skim some water. They are so agile; there isn't a huge amount of room for them to manoeuver, but they managed perfectly.

 

Emigration.

With the awful mess that our present government is making of the economy (amongst other things) there is an unprecedented rush for 'professionals' to quit the UK for a better life elsewhere. 

When I left the UK back in 1972, it wasn't for any reasons of dissatisfaction, it was that I wanted to raise my children (I had 2 at the time) in a warm bucolic area, where I could afford the luxury of a large old farmhouse and a decent amount of land.

The photo below shows my sister and I on board the liner taking her off to live in New Zealand. At the time she had been working in Knightsbridge, and I was in The City.

Moving abroad must run in our family veins. My own daughter lives in Australia, and my youngest son lives in Thailand. My lovely cousin Stephen moved to Canada, and even my own father considered moving to either S Africa or Canada (but didn't).

There is no question that the UK of a few decades ago has now gone for ever, and it now seems like a totally different country. When you hear that 25% of our NHS doctors are thinking of leaving the UK, you know something's very wrong.

 

Dying Chimp Says Goodbye To Old Friend

I originally thought the man in this video was Johnny Morris, but I see that it's the Dutch Biologist Jan Van Hooff, who is an expert in 'primates'.

The video reminds me of the night I sat up with Freddie (my lovely cat). I knew he was dying, so I stayed with him for an hour or so until he was fast asleep, the next morning I found him lifeless. I am so pleased that he knew I was there beside him; I'm sure that animals appreciate that just as humans do.

K -K -K -Katie

 

My youngest son was at school with the lovely Katie (below), but not in the same 'stream'. He didn't really have much to do with her, even though they were contemporaries. However, he does remember her.

After school Katie did some modelling, and became what we call in the UK 'A Page 3 Girl'. In other words, she took her clothes off for money.

At some stage she thought she didn't look how she wanted to look, so she had bits enlarged, bits tucked, and other bits tightened. She became known for it, and seemed never to be out of the newspapers with some new trip to Poland, or Turkey, or other places, to have more cosmetic surgery.

Her nips-n-tucks all cost a huge amount of money, and what cash she'd made through her 'modelling career' soon disappeared, and she eventually became bankrupt; owing over £3.5 Million. Her 'mucky mansion' was seized, as were her pink cars, horses, and anything else of value.

So now, after all those years of 'beauty treatments', she looks like this (below).

Money well spent you might say. I'm sure by now she must have achieved her goal, and looks how she always wanted to look.

Good on yer Katie, you look gorgeous Babe. Those lips are so kissable, and that smile so appealing. It takes a lot of money to look so good!

Oh; and all your tattoos (out of view) are FAB!

A day in the life...

Kimbo: Who are these people behind me?

Lady M: Look, I've been working my hands to the bone!

Wills: Are you sure this jam doesn't contain meat?

Cro (wearing new watch): There's a wasp drowning in my coffee!

Boo Boo: Leave me alone, I'm still in bed.

Just a typical breakfast with the Magnon family. Croissants, Pain au Chocolat, Coffee, Home-made jams, amusing repartee, planning the day's events, plenty of irrational suggestions.

We decided to go to the lovely market in the village of Cazals. Far too many people, mostly Brits, with the women wearing long diaphanous dresses and large straw hats, and the men in awful shorts sandals and long socks. We head for a shady bar and drink ice cold beer before heading home for lunch.

Lunch is varied. I eat water melon, others eat bread and cheese, someone even opened a tin of mackerel in a white wine sauce. No two people ate the same things. All very relaxed.

Swimming, snoozing, walks with Billy. For supper I cook roast chicken and roast potatoes with a salad. We eat quite late then attempt to empty Europe's 'wine lake' until our sides begin to burst from laughter. We play 'Guess the flavour' with our crisps.  It's been just another sunny summer's day in the Magnon household. Boo Boo has kept us amused, we also played a very silly general knowledge game (but with Kimbo's oddball rules), and we all retire feeling well fed and very tired.

It's been about 28 C, and tomorrow (today) will be 33 C. Still not overpowering, but it's heating up again after a brief lull. Traditionally heat builds-up to mid August, then we have violent storms.

We have all that to look forward to. Kimbo flew back to Blighty yesterday afternoon. Otherwise, all is well.

 

My father's birthday

Certain birthdays are etched into my memory; others that I should remember, are sadly not.

Today, August 5th, was my late father's birthday, which I never forget. He was born in 1905.

I suppose he was very typical of his ilk. Privately educated, he was reserved, correct, and honest. He worked hard and was successful. He was also highly respected. However, as a 'father' he probably lacked certain skills, as I expect many of his era did.

I don't ever remember kicking a Football with him, or playing Cricket in the garden. But at the age of about 11 he did buy me a BSA Air Rifle; which I still have. It was very out of character, and I was never sure what he thought I'd do with it.

I still regret that I wasn't with him when he died. He'd suddenly been moved to a different hospital, and I hadn't been informed. A day later I received the inevitable phone call that said he'd 'gone'. I would liked to have been with him, and held his hand, as I was with my mother; but it wasn't to be. I do hope he didn't think that I'd abandoned him, but I suspect he would have been unconscious.

His photo hangs in my sitting room here in France. I have so much to thank him for. I shall look at his picture today and do so.

 

Pride weekend

It's been 'Pride' weekend in Brighton. Probably one of the biggest LGBT parades in the UK.

Brighton (and adjoining Kemp Town) are well known for being a very liberal community, and have been at the core of the UK gay scene from time immemorial.  

I've never actually been in Brighton for Pride Weekend, so I cannot report first-hand. However, my DIL, Suzie, is there at the moment and sent me photos. The whisp of silver hair in the photo belongs to my good friend Sami, who just happened to be amongst the roadside audience. Susie was standing behind her, with Sami unaware.

The naughty angel seems to be enjoying himself.

 

My boys.

If anyone had asked if I like surprises or not, I would probably have sad "Not".

However, it came as an extremely PLEASANT surprise that when Wills and Boo Boo arrived yesterday afternoon, they were accompanied by Kimbo. The scallywags had organised it all in secret in advance and they'd picked him up at Brive airport. I could hardly believe my eyes. Champagne was consumed by all; even one sip by Boo Boo. 

Both my boys do enjoy the finer things in life, and Wills arrived in this Merc' CLE 200 Cabriolet (top speed 236 km/h). A Cruise Missile on wheels. Personally I'm happy with just an engine, steering wheel, and gear stick; too many gadgets in a car frightens me.

But I must admit; it IS a gorgeous car!

The boys surprised me in another way too. I woke yesterday morning to find that I now have a brand new internet service that actually works! I'm making Elon Musk even richer than he already is by having subscribed to his superb STARLINK service; and what a difference compared to the rubbish French Orange Internet we've had until now. I now have a speed of 330 Mb/s whereas before it didn't even reach 1 Mb/s (if that means anything to anyone). Wills went up on the roof after I'd gone to bed (below). They set up the whole system (during the night) without my knowing.

Incidentally; Musk's STARLINK will cost us 40 Euros a month, whereas our Rubbish ORANGE was 60 Euros a month. No brainer! God riddance to ORANGE!

As you can imagine, a few tiles broke in the process of installing the dish, and those were all replaced too.

So, a few days of fun ahead. Boo Boo is loving being back here, he seems to be in his element. Billy is, of course, loving having him here too; they are inseparable. I think the weather is getting back to Summerish too; perfect timing.

There was also another wonderful surprise, but I'll keep that for another day!

 

Hunting in August?

You can imagine my surprise when, yesterday morning, I left the house to find three hunters amongst the Sunflowers, about 20 yards from my front door.

They looked like a bunch of ex-Army mercenaries. They were wearing full camouflage clothing, and two of them carried very high-powered-looking rifles, with big fat silencers and telescopic sights. The third just had a pair of binoculars. The two with the guns had them resting on shoulder-height 'props'.

They stood in amongst the Sunflowers looking south into the valley below; hoping, no doubt to see a few Deer with targets painted on their sides.

As soon as they saw me they turned and went away. I tried to take a photo of them, but only managed to take one of the grass. However I did see them get into a car and they drove off. You might just see their car behind the leafy twig in the middle of my awful photo above.

Hunting here starts on September 8th, so what these people were up to I have no idea; poaching I presume.

With all the kit they had, it was more like target practice than hunting. Thank goodness no Deer were about, they wouldn't have stood a chance.

I'm not anti hunting, but I do like it to be done correctly, and with safety in mind. These people would have been shooting blind, without seeing what was behind their targets; an absolute SIN in the world of hunting. There are always a few deaths amongst hunters each year, no doubt that will continue!

I hope they didn't shoot anything.

 

Shakatak - Night Birds

I bought my home in Brighton in 1985, around the time when 'Nightbirds' was a hit record. I bought the album (on cassette) and played it relentlessly; I may even still have it somewhere.

Shakatak were a London band, and I believe they are still going strong today!

There was some very good music around at that time, especially from female singers, and this song still brings back great memories.

Veggie Mercredi.

 

I am continuing to stick to my veggie-ness on Wednesdays. Like eating fish on Fridays, it's a ritual that is worth the upkeep.

This last Wednesday I changed my 'Compost Fry-up' slightly, and added a dollop of Thai Red Curry Paste instead of the usual sprinkling of Cumin Powder.

It was remarkably good. Not a pukka curry at all, but simply a well-flavoured mélange of vegetables (potatoes, courgettes, peppers, beans, and a few mushrooms).

I shall certainly be doing this again.

Vegetarian eating is all well and good, as long as I occasionally have some meat to eat. Like so many quasi-Veggies who pop into McDonald's for a burger whilst no-one's looking, I need my meat fix on a regular basis. However, I do feel more 'encouraged' to eat Veggie whilst I'm here. Simplicity (as in my Compost fry-up) seems to go better with a warmer climate, and a glass or two of Piquette.

I suppose it's the cuisine of hotter and poorer countries that seems to suit the life-style here too. Plenty of Pasta, Rice, Couscous, and Pulses, combined with a minimum of actual cooking is our preferred way of eating. We also like to take our time; it's all far more relaxed!