Thursday, December 14, 2006

Dear Pete and Fellows,

At our time of life it is important to seek and cherish every little compensating thought that we can. An example: We have all passed 64 and I am sure that we are all still needed and fed which is more than can be said for one of the surviving perpetrators of that little 1960's ditty.

Another, though the comfort is a little cooler is that my sixteen year old youngster did not run away with a man from the Motor Trade; he is in the Music Business. So, That's All Right Then.

To compound the act. she waited until parents, grand mother and sister were all 800 miles away before telling us (by phone) that she was not at home with house sitters hosting a friend from Formosa as we thought but intended travelling to Greece with the New Love In Her Life. Rather unsportingly and I expect she will remind us of this in years to come, we asked her uncle, all twenty or so stone, shaven head and heavy boots to wrest her passport away from her. Well, one never knows what the water is like in these Foreign Parts.

Better safe than sorry.

Apart from that, we had an excellent time in France. Or Catalonia as we should call this region. Although very much within the mountain range and therefore much cooler than Perpignan, we were easily as warm as London, almost 90* F but rather more dry. Grass was uniformly yellow, though trees presumably had adapted and still had all their leaves.

The day following my younger's disclosure I was woken from my after lunch nap by the smell of smoke and shrieks from my elder daughter, Emily. Our garden is about thirty feet long, ending in a very low wall and gate which opens onto a communal park which effectively extends the gardens of the surrounding houses. Some residential roads in London are similarly arranged around Notting Hill. Ornamental trees, good lawn a pleasure to walk or sit.

Opposite our wall is a new house nearing completion. One of the builders had piled up spare timber and had set fire to it. Now, this time of the year, grass yellow and timber dry, there are few worse offences. Obviously the builder had travelled from many miles away where he probably lived in marshland. You may remember the forest fire which devastated much of the country just north of Perpignan a couple of years ago. The locals certainly do.

There are signs everywhere warning against fire. My daughter was over the wall and standing in front of the builder almost as soon as the first whiff of smoke appeared explaining this fact to him in Perfect English. He replied in Perfect French. I did not understand every word, but he made himself plain by chucking more timber on the blaze, sending a shower of sparks dangerously near the trees. Another resident appeared and repeated what Emily had said, but in French and complete with fist gestures. More people arrived, understandably worried, if the grass caught, the trees may well have followed. Le Canigou is surrounded by unbroken forest which could easily have gone up in smoke, quite apart from our houses. Grudgingly, the builder turned on a hose and made a show of dousing the flames, in fact it simply increased the smoke which now obscured the park. At that moment, two gendarmes appeared.

"Oh good," exclaimed Emily, "They have guns. Shoot him" she demanded, still in English. When this did not happen, she requested of the nearest French neighbour: "How do you say: Shoot him".

The policeman led the man to the front of the house, out of our sight. To Emily's obvious distress, he reappeared a few moments later, bullet hole free, but made a thorough job of dousing the fire. I gathered later that the police are empowered to demand spot fines for these offences and can be very persuasive. Anyway, this episode restored the faith in my daughters so cruelly shaken the previous day.

If you want any more and there is plenty.
Just ask
Neil