Troubles

I went down to the kitchen earlier than usual this morning and have been told off for disrupting various rituals between my husband and the dog.  Usually I stay in bed reading and drinking tea whilst Mike and Dolly have a brief ramble to the river and back.  There is then a paw wiping procedure which takes place with the wiper sitting on a kitchen chair and the wipee raising one paw after another to the proffered towel.  Then there is a dog’s breakfast, as opposed to a dog’s dinner, and then Dolly is told to go upstairs and see me.  All of which was altered this morning by my presence in the kitchen chopping up vegetables.  If that wasn’t bad enough, I had moved the wiping towel from the back of a chair where it has been sitting for a while to a hook behind the kitchen door.

I did mean well.  I was trying to make a casserole to divide between us and our friends, the Bickertons, who have been robbed in Spain and are now making their way back home without money, credit cards or keys.   They had coffee after filling up at a petrol station then, on driving a little way down the motorway, found themselves with a flat tyre.    As they tried to fix it, a friendly man with a breakdown triangle pulled up in front of them and offered to help.  The major part of his  help consisted of nipping into their unlocked car, removing both their bags and driving off.  The whole things seems to have been planned, with a little air let  out of the wheel at the garage, or a slash to the tyre small enough to allow for a brief initial drive down the motorway.   People drive past you on motorways.  Unless they see violence taking place, they don’t assume that the man who has pulled up in front of the pensioner couple is not an innocent passer by but a very nasty robber. 

A kind policeman has lent them enough money for petrol and travel home  and they should be arriving sometime around lunchtime.  Mike has been up to their house yesterday with a locksmith, so they don’t have to break in, and I thought that a casserole would be welcoming.  It may be ready in time.  It bubbles in the oven as I type, though I have to get it out of the oven, drive it over to them and get back here for about 12.00 as we are promised as marshalls at the local athletic club walk today. 

I took Dolly a long walk round the back of Tourtoirac yesterday and saw:

 

The First Butterfly

 

 

 

The First Cowslip

 

 

 

 

 

The Fontaine de la Doue

 



 

 

The Fontaine de la Doue is allegedly under the control of Saint Remy who will cure gout, rheumatism, infertility and also give a hand with “membres souffrant”.  Which is helpful of him.

Going back to the car we got stared at by hens.