The two boyz are in fine fettle this morning. Quite unexpectedly a breeze, bordering on a wind, has sprung up. PON's love wind and Wilf and Digby were out at the crack of dawn zigzaging around in the courtyard aimlessly tracking the scents of all the animals that have wandered by overnight. After their high speed , nose down, endeavours they are now stretched out in the garden, head on into the wind, ears streaming behind them - canine bliss after the six weeks of unrelenting heat.The human component of the family is less happy. The morning dip in the pool proved to be rather more enervating than planned. Overnight the water temperature has fallen, sharply,and there was an audible intake of breath followed by a less than gentlemanly exclamation when water and body met - my heart rate went skyrocketing with the shock. A full and immediate cardio-vascular workout. The boyz of course find the morning dip to be one of the highlights of the day - lap 'splosh', another lap 'splosh'. How long could they play this game without tiring?
In the village the last of the tourists have gone, the Americans and British owners of summer houses packed up and back in London and DC for the start of the new school year. The bar which receives six copies of the Herald Tribune in summer for sale to the foreign residents is back to getting our solitary copy from the distributor. The barrista , having discovered that the Trib is the NY Times in disguise, assumes perhaps reasonably that the 'font' and I are American - why else would we buy an American paper? Hence the incomprehensible questions that get thrown at us as we order the morning espresso "How the Yankees doin ?" - " You rootin for da Cubs". The 'font' enters into the spirit of it and now replies to the questions with the equally uninteligible response 'six for nothing in the final innings' . The barrista uncomprehending, nods sagely, satisfied at having practised his English, the 'font' chuckles inwardly (and sometimes outwardly) at the inanity of it, and I'm just glad no English speaking sports fan ever overhears this gibberish.
The dog car is to be replaced. The electrics seem to have developed a mind of their own with the rear windows showing a rather disconcerting habit of gliding down,and then up again,randomly and unexpectedly. This absence of human agency is a clear sign to me that the solution is going to be costly and recurrent. A MINI wagon gets 70+ miles to the gallon , has a carbon footprint smaller than a sparrows, and just enough room for the two boyz in the back. We'd go to the garage today to order one but Italy and the Hebrides follow similar guidelines when it comes to Sunday opening.
