Once Works Well was pure technology. Now it seeks merely to divert.
Pansy subjects - Verse! Opera! Domestic trivia! - are now commonplace.
The 300-word limit for posts is retained. The ego is enlarged

Friday, 24 June 2011

At 30 deg C the mind starts to soften

SJdlB 3. Where it’s not just the grasshopper that becomes a burden but the strimmer. Next door started up yesterday after a prolonged bout of horseplay in our pool (we’ve been joined by granddaughter Bella and her boyfriend). This morning, as I hang out the washing, the other neighbour contributes a succession of roaring arias.

I can’t complain. These are not lawns that would be recognised as such in Epsom or Wilmslow. The grass is scrappy and parched, the ground pebbly and the contours random. No place for the stately Qualcast or even the mediaeval scythe.

As I proceed from pegging out the rewarding biggies (a pair of trousers, a bath towel) to the fiddly small stuff (socks, knickers, a bra) yesterday’s droner shouts his thanks for retrieving his wheelie bin and pushing it up the steep track to our two villas. An accidental gesture since I thought it was ours. He shrugs and a butterfly negotiates my washing line. Not a day for architecture – it rarely is here in oven-hot Languedoc. Culture is contained in the wafer confines of the Kindle: 29 titles including Ovid’s Metamorphosis and (more June-like) The Forsyte Saga. Plus much Arnold Bennett.

I return to the balcony to write this: down below the soccer ball is kicked desultorily as Younger Daughter floats backwards and forwards in an inflatable dinghy. We’re off to lunch soon, after which we’ll buy l’Equipe and read about Sunday’s thrilling Canadian GP.

Did you expect intellectuals straining at the leash?

The tenses may suggest otherwise but we're home now.

The above were tagged pêches plats at Clermont l’Hérault street market. Their flavour is unaffected by their flatness. Melons here hit your palate with the strength of chilis.


Plutarch said...

The peaches have the same name at our local greengrocer - flat peaches. They are are remarkably juicy.

Sir Hugh said...

Are you using somebody's iPhone to blog?

Barrett Bonden said...

Plutarch: I agree.

Sir Hugh: No, I've been home since last Sunday (June 19)

The Crow said...

Around here (PA and Louisiana, at least), those peaches are called donut peaches. Concur about their juiciness.

Hattie said...

I have Ovid on my Kindle, too. I also have games and such which I don't think are available outside of the U.S. yet.
I am so homesick for Europe! Not a possibility this year what with grandkids to visit, music festivals, and a Caribbean cruise coming up in Dec.
OH boo hoo poor me.
Have a wonderful wonderful summer!

Anne said...

What a lovely languid post.

herhimnbryn said...

They are calle doughnut peaches here. Have you every tried fresh peach with just a little freshly cracked black pepper? Divine.

You are welcome to your 30 deg. It's down to 17 here now, perfect.

herhimnbryn said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
herhimnbryn said...

Posted twice apologies. Also calleD!

Barrett Bonden said...

The Crow: More graphic, more idiomatic. I'm even prepared to spell donut the way you do.

Hattie: I only need one electronic game and that's solitaire. I play it while I'm on the phone to certain selected callers.

Anne: Thanks, you got it in one: languor (hard to spell) was what i was I was after.

HHB: I've heard of that with strawberries and even tried it. It's OK but it evokes censorious stares from those I'm sharing the table with. In Oz I suppose it's live and let live. Thanks for giving two HHBs (perhaps three) for the price of one. You may delete from the blog but not the sidling email.

Rouchswalwe said...

I've not laughed so hard in a long, long time. Thank you, BB!!! *(yes, you get three, count them, three exclamation marks).