Valley stream

I appear to have survived Christmas. Geo and Don haven't though. They're both horizontal with food poisoning apparently. Geo reckons it may have been the sprouts. I'm not so sure 'cos I noshed bucket loads of 'em with no ill effects, apart from quietly passing wind into the sofa while watching telly. Geo said it wasn't quiet. Anyways, I reckon the alleged food poisoning may have been vaping. They both merrily puff away watching telly, totally denying it's poisonous and a killer. Covers up the aroma of my gaz de derrière though.

So, today, with both of 'em kaput and out of action, I nipped downtown for bread and bottled water then gave Hamish a walk down the bottom stream lane. Cor blimey, muddy or what! And the stream was in full flow. Gushing along. Seems only recently (August) it was almost bone dry. Stagnant. Now look at it. Took some snaps to contrast with August photo. It's a floody time of year. Big floods in Angleterre apparently. And down south in France. But we're okay up here in the hills. Water just drains off down the valleys. River Creuse is well up down in Felletin. Burst its banks in a few places. Which reminds me, my shoes leak. Timberlands. Crap items. Must remember to wear my proper shoes. Northampton-made Crockett & Jones's. Or Lowa boots. Pricey but worth it. Nowt worse than soggy feet when dogwalking. I digress. Ah well, there ye go.

Red carpet

Yesterday's dogwalk was in the forest up at the Walkers' Barn. Been a bit rainy and windy lately (an understatement) so it was soggy and damp underfoot with bits of broken trees littering the open ground. But in the forest of tall trees there weren't so many fallen branches as it's sheltered from the wind. Damp though. And the ground was covered in fallen leaves. A red carpet. So the trees were bare. So it was lighter than usual. Even on a cloudy day at dusk. Odd in mid-winter. Strangely, in summer, it's darker. That's when the leaves shield the sun. These were some of the thoughts I had when trailing Hamish. Odd too that the recent downpours have swollen the valley rivers and streams while on the other side of the planet bushfires are raging on the hottest day ever in Australia. Floods too in Angleterre apparently. Wasn't so long ago our valley stream had ceased flowing. No stream, just puddles in rocks. Cattle were parched. Farmers hauled water tanks behind chugging tractors delivering to distant fields. Tough times. But now the fields are sodden. Cattle are wet and huddled under sheltering trees. But the trees have no leaves. So the rain gets through. Ah well, that's winter. Soon be the shortest day. Come to think of it, it's today. Soon be spring. The red carpet will have disappeared. Munched by worms. New leaves will appear and the forest will darken again.

Noel nosh-up

Just survived the annual Christmas lunch for local retired old farts up at the village mairie (official town hall). Kicked off at mid-day and eventually emerged into the evening mists at around 4.30 feeling a bit fuzzy. Headed for home and took the dog for an evening stagger. Was a good do. Grub was prepared by neighbour Thingy (forgotten name) and his wife Wotsit (forgotten name) who run the restaurant at nearby Magnat-l'Etrange. They always knock up a fab menu accompanied by plenty of vin blancs, rosés, rouges and champagnes with optional cassis and jugs d'eau, not to mention a course of pear ice cream swimming in a lethal amount of delicious calvados. On the mayor's table there were a couple of, presumably, on duty gendarmes complete with guns in holsters, just in case an old fart or deux became a tad over exuberant due to imbibing beaucoup de laughing juice. Interestingly, many of the assembled dodderies burst into communal song after a few tipples and I, of course, joined in with hearty grunts as I didn't know the words, and half way through the nosh-up same dodderies began enthusiastically waving red napkins in the air while, again, singing some jolly old song as I grunted along singing 'vive la revolutution' and 'Boris Johnson est merde'. Have to say it was quite a relief to escape while still being able to assume the vertical. Shame I missed out on the fruit, choccies and coffees. Wouldn't be at all surprised if a few brandies suddenly appeared. Buggaire-moi, these old folks are a hardy bunch. Passed the mairie later that evening. Lunch appeared to have finished. Christmas lights were twinkling on the tree outside the venue.