Sprocket Hill

Sunny and warm yesterday. Took Hamish up to Sprocket Hill for his evening walk. Geo stayed home, doing the washing. Hamish has developed a nasty habit of disappearing under the fence and into the Sprocket Hill woods where he disobeys orders to come back. Nose down on the scent of deer he ignores all our commands and whistles. Few weeks back he disappeared for hours. Drove home without him after sunset. Almost dark. Luckily spotted him in a field on the way home. Quite by chance. Sheer good fortune. Anyways, yesterday, sure enough he disappeared into the woods. Again. Couldn't be arsed to go after him so I headed onwards up the hill. Big effort with gammy hip and walking stick. Sat down at the top. Good view. Spotted Mr. Disobedient emerge from the wood heading back to the car. Didn't see me up the hill. Whistled and shouted "oi, bastard!" and he came running up, panting. So we both sat there taking in the sunny view. Then headed back down. And home.

 

Not a lot

Another month has whizzed by since my last posting. So, what's happened since then? Well, not a lot, nothing much, can't really think of anything worth mentioning, but there must be something. Er, ah yes, had a bit of unexpected snow a few days back. Woke up, looked out the fenetre and there it was. About an inch or deux of the stuff. Looked quite pretty but was probably a bit of a shock for the poor daffs. So there you go, when nothing much happens, talk about the weather. Or grub. Amazing how Geo knocks stuff up on our pathetic, elderly, mini 'leccy cooker with two rings on top, one of which no longer works. Keep meaning to lash out and buy a proper 'leccy cooker but never seem to get around to it. I've known mini kitchens in caravans and scout camps that are better equipped than ours. But caravans and scout camps don't have our secret weapon: the log burning stove. Works a treat for cooking. And saves on electrickery. Logs cost a packet though. We buy 'em from neighbour Christian who chops down trees from his foresty bits and then saws 'em up, stacks 'em and then sells 'em to us villagers. He presumably reckons that money does, in fact, grow on trees. Hah! 

What else? Er..., ah yes, a couple of my old chums had their golden wedding anniversaire. Married fifty years ago. Fifty years! A registry office in Victoria, if I remember correctly. Way back in 1971. I was still a student. Final year at the Royal College o'Fart. Anyways, they organised a Zoomy meeting. About half a dozen of us took part. I'd never done this before. Didn't even realise this laptop thingy had a movie camera. Georgie explained and set up our connection. All very 21st Century. The gathering lasted forty minutes. Quite good fun. I was just getting into the swing of things, knocking back the vino and making derogatory comments, when suddenly the screen went blank. Amazing how quickly forty minutes zoom by when you're having fun. Luckily my Zoomy chums back in Angleterre are still speaking to me despite my insults and mickey-taking. 

So..., what else? Er..., had another three-monthly visit to the doc in order for him to check if I was still alive and to renew my prescription. This was preceeded by a visit to the Dracula centre in Aubusson where they took a blood sample. Always tricky finding a vein. A pint! That's an armful! Blood test revealed more bad news - it's never good news - kidneys continuing to degenerate. Doc mentioned the possibility of dialysis. Said it can be self-administered at home by just plugging in a connector to one's stomach. Apparently he has an eighty year old male patient who lives on his tod out in the wilds who does self-dialysis. Otherwise it's daily trips to Limoges hospital about seventy-five miles away. Ah well, something to look forward to. And my hip joint has been complaining. Difficult walking. Bit painful. Have now bought a walking stick which helps. Especially on dogwalks. 

Talking of dogwalks, spotted Hamish sniffing a fallen tree branch in the distance. Wasn't a branch. Turned out to be a deer's antler. No sign of blood so we assumed it wasn't lost in a punch-up. Gave rise to loads of questions: do female deer have antlers, what's a female deer called (doe, a deer, a female deer, ray, a drop of golden sun, tra-la-la), will a deer die if it loses an antler, etc.? Checked the internet for answers when we got home. Turns out that deer naturally lose antlers at this time of year and they grow back. So no worries. Er, nothing else to report. Weather's improving. Days getting longer. Well, no, they're not. They're still 24 hours long. Longer daylight. Full moon tonight, I think. Er, I'm rabbiting, so I'll stop.

Curfew

It's said (but I don't know by whom - is it "who" or "whom"? - cor blimey, brain the size of a planet, albeit a small one, and I still appear to be thicker than thieves, or summink) that people who remark about what they ate at mealtimes demonstrate an extreme lack of imagination, so I'll show what we noshed a few soirées back (cos I like the colours), preceded by the streamside dogstroll of a couple of late après-midis ago, which, in turn, is preceded by a snap from yesterday's supermarché trip where a rather impressive display of locally grown vegetables caught my attention just as a supervisor's voice boomed out from various speakers that there were just twenty minutes left before they shut up shop at six - which is when the daily Covid curfew kicks off - at which point there was a mad dash for the checkout tills followed by an even madder dash to drive home before six in order to avoid a mahoosive fine, or worse, by the rabid cops who we spotted lying in wait on our way to the Aubusson Carrefour supermarché, thus causing us to take avoiding action by taking the back road home at a thoroughly illegal ten past six due to a time consuming petrol stop where I had big trouble opening and closing the car's petrol cap lock (needs a squirt of WD40) and Geo had a teeny bit of trouble remembering the bank card tap-in number thingy. Which reminds moi, some chap was recently arrested for speeding at 190kph and his excuse was that he was trying to get home before the 6pm curfew. Worth a try. Didn't work though. You're nicked, sunshine. Fortunately we weren't, thanks to our devious back roads escape ploy. Was quite busy up there with other lawbreakers having the same idea. Er, where was I? Ah yes, photos...

Back valley

Sundown's noticeably later. Not that we've had much sun lately. Slightly longer evenings mean we go out for late afternoon dogstrolls a bit later. Used to go at about fiveish, now about sixish. Street lights come on at 6.40pm. Roll on spring. When do the clocks go forward? Must be soon.

Anyways..., I'm rabbiting. 

Had a drive around a few days back. Went to look at a property for sale near St. Georges Nigremont. Curiosity. Saw it advertised on Leboncoin. Drove past it, didn't go in, still occupied. Lovely building but slightly hemmed in by a couple of neighbours. They're probably very friendly, but... nah, not for us. Too damned pricey for a start (€112000). And doesn't get the evening sun.

 

On the drive back home we passed an amazing old tree. Stopped and took a photo, not a particularly good one, bit dark, late afternoon.

 

Then stopped off for a dogwalk, down in the back valley, in a field with a stream which is usually occupied by cattle. Never been in that field before. Been past it dozens of times. Sort of faces east so doesn't get the evening sun, unlike our usual dogstroll fields up Sprocket Hill, which faces west so does get the evening sun, but no stream. Swings and roundabouts. Er, what evening sun? Haven't had much sun lately. Have I mentioned this already? Sign of getting old, saying things twice. And dandruff of the eyebrows. And it's said that oldies get more Tory and supportive of Brexit. Strange. I get more and more leftish, and European.

Anyways..., I'm rabbiting.

For the next day's dogstroll I was about to go up Sprocket Hill when Geo said why do we always go up there when there are loads of other places to go? So we went back down the back valley stream, again. Still no cattle there so into the field we waltzed. Dull weather again, but at least it wasn't raining. We're very lucky to be able to wander around such a pleasant beauty spot. Kept thinking of all those lockdown Brits (and Frenchies, and all other global city dwellers) cooped up in overcrowded urban rabbit hutch boxes. We may be poor peasants but we count our blessings. Then Hamish went knee deep into black streamside mud. And I trod in a cowpat.  

 

Amazon Crime

I used Amazon for the first time in December to buy a few shortbread Christmas presents. At the time I innocently signed up for a free 30 day trial of Amazon Prime. I've just discovered that they've taken two £7.99 monthly payments from my account without me realising. Daylight robbery Hidden in the depths of the small print of this free 30 day offer is a tiny little statement that if you don't request cancellation within this 30 day period they will automatically start a standing order to take £7.99 per month until such time as you figure out a way of ending this arrangement - not so much Amazon Prime as Amazon Crime. If you don't notice that these payments are being made (as I didn't until I made a rare visit to my online bank account) the payments continue indefinitely. How many people have fallen into this trap, I wonder.

    

Burns Night

Burns Night. Last Monday. Planned on having haggis (Christmas present from nephew) for dinner. Had Sunday's chilli con carne leftovers instead - don't like binning grub. Plan to have haggis on Tuesday thwarted by pork chops nearing outofdateness, so had them instead - don't like binning grub. Eventually had haggis on Wednesday, two days late, with neeps, tatties and carrots, and a big dram of Strathisla. Excellent. Better late than never.

Noel '20

The local Mairie always lays on a grand Christmas lunch for the geriatrics of the hamlet and surrounding area. But not this year. Cancelled, due to the dreaded Covid plague. Instead, local councilors distributed Christmas goody hampers to the old folks, us included. These consisted of Limousin region delicacies such as jam, cake, sweets, paté de campagne, foie gras and a small bouteille de Bordeaux rouge (not Limousin region!), presumably financed by the French government - merci bien. And our hamper came with a special table decoration apparently hand-made by another councilor. Much appreciated. Merci encore. Wouldn't get that back in Blighty.

Despite this Covid plague we managed to do a fair bit of Christmas shopping. Grub mainly. And booze, of course. Raided Lidl at Egletons and the supermarchés at Felletin and Aubusson. They weren't too crowded and people wore masques which was reassuring. Went to five, no six, supermarchés in search of a bottle of Bailey's. Needed to buy this as a present for neighbour Isabelle who had insisted we visit on Christmas Eve for a nosh-up with hubby Christian and mum Janette. We'd turned down quite a few of her recent invites to pop round through fear of catching the plague - Isabelle doesn't seem to take it very seriously, possibly because she thinks she's protected by taking vitamin pills. Anyway, the Bailey's search drew a blank so we bought her champagne, Christian a cheeky St. Emilion and Janette a box of choccy bics because they always get us a present. But not this year. So they looked a bit embarrassed about this non reciprocation. No worries, the grub was much appreciated, even though we ate late. Geo reckons that's normal in France on Chrissy Eve. Staggered back home at about eleven. Sleeting. Cold. Hamish pleased to see us back. Excitedly sniffed my trews where Pearl (Isabelle's little bitch) and Zen (Isabelle's big bitch) had deposited scent.

Christmas Day dawned with a blanket of snow. Made Geo shriek with joy when she looked out the window. Weather forecast said a big chill and stormy wind was about to hit. Geo, bless, bought in a load of logs. Had two fires on the go. Kitchen and upstairs. Chicken in oven. Then prep spuds, sprouts, carrots, bread sauce etc. Ate at around three or four. Walker's mince pies with cream and ice cream in front of the Queen's speech. Excellent not having to go out visiting or having people round (we never have people round, especially at Christmas). Can't remember what was on telly while gently passing wind, slobbing on the settee. Bliss.

It's now the 28th. Still chilly. Still snowing. Another two months of this weather could be serious. Ah well, ç'est la vie. Roll on spring.