Tuesday, 5 October 2010

Round the block

This afternoon, in full sunshine with the temperature at about 24º, I set off up the lane, carrying my walking stick just in case,

- past Denise the neighbour's house, noting how wild boar have virtually ploughed up the ditch beneath her garden wall

- past the house that used to belong to Mme Lejeune, where there is a ceramic plaque on the gate announcing that St Etienne supporters live there

- past the house where a dog called Wobbly barks at passers-by

- past the house belonging to some blonde Belgian women whom we found sitting one evening on our terrasse getting outside a glass or two of best rouge, having been invited unknown to us by some Italian musicians who fancied them

- past the field where Eric the interior designer keeps his donkey called Lady (pron. 'laddy')

- up the lane to where the path branches off to the right through chestnut woods, where newly-fallen chestnuts cover the ground, making a first-class Fakirs' Autumn Handicap course

- down to a clearing where someone has chain-sawed tree-stumps into castles with battlements

- along the old railway line, now turned into a bridle path, where passers-by amuse themselves by heaving parapet coping stones down into the river

- past our neighbour Hector in his bee-suit busy with his hives

- through a gap in the woods past a malarial pond where hops and monbrietia grow

- back up to our lane again beside the house we used to live in, now inhabited by - among others - a cat called Moltonel

- up the lane for about 100 metres, having completed a circular walk we call 'round the block' for the first time since July 30th, when I first injured my back conducting.

I think things are looking up. I'm very pleased with myself, tho' I expect I'll pay for it tomorrow.


Dave said...

You fail to mention that your trip also takes you three times round the pissoir.

Christopher said...

Dave, I have to tell you that in polite society the items of public convenience which you mention (when they're not trees) are termed vespasiennes. And the problem is a herniated lumbar disc, not enuresis. But thank you for concern.

Rog said...

I'm wondering if Hector's Bee Suit had yello stripes and little wings attached.

Sounds like you need to get a dog to me Cristoff! It would give Wobbly a shock...

dinahmow said...

Loved the JW logo! And, still mostly confined to sofas, am envious of the walk.

word ver is patio

Charlene said...

I felt as though I were walking with you; such a nice description of your successful walk.

I also learned a new word: monbrietia.

Dave said...

I am sorry but I don't believe it's possible to describe a walk around a French village without mentioning the public convenience. We've all read Clochemerle, you know.

Vicus Scurra said...

Wild boars and mosquitos? The most dangerous creature I have seem in North East Hampshire this month was a particularly venomous looking slow worm. I think you should write a letter.

Hector said...

"I'm wondering if Hector's Bee Suit had yello (sic) stripes and little wings attached" - it's white - well sort of dirty white after a season or two delving into the depths of my hives.
Good to see Chris is buzzing around again.

Hector said...

Afterthought - must get Andromache to wash it now the season is almost at an end - being extremely careful with my wings.

Z said...

Lovely to get out and do something that makes you feel back to normal again - even if you pay for it, it's worth it. But I hope it's done you good physically too.

Christopher said...

Rog: I know. Again, one day, perhaps. The late lamented Lulume lies in sad cypress beneath the turf with her broken feeding bowl and Badger, a glove puppet she used to tote around.

(Erm...you're not thinking of breeding from O and L, are you?)

DM: I know, miserable times. But nil desperandum, silver linings, lights at the end of tunnels, a merry heart goes all the way, your sad tires in a mile-a. Courage, le diable est mort.

Charlene: Hi. You could try growing it in your garden. It's quite hardy.

Vicus: I understand wild boar are starting to infest SE England. I don't know how they got there; they can hardly have swum the Channel. It can only be a matter of time before they reach NE Hampshire. They do dig your garden for nothing, though.

Hector: Hoover, Miele, Electrolux, Hotpoint, Brandt, Indesit - never heard of Andromache before.

Z: Thank you. Yes, it's done a lot of good. I feel the same sense of achievement as you must have shortly after your hip job.

Christopher said...

...and Dave, again: Clochemerle, yes. A great book. I hope you don't identify yourself too closely with Abbé Ponosse. The mile-long walk I described could hardly be more rural - ask Patroclus - but there are three or four conveniences in the village with doors that close.

Hector said...

Chris - "never heard of Andromache"?????

Homer's rendering of Andromache portrays her as a perfect wife, giving Hector sound advice - need we say more!!!!

Christopher said...

Glad to hear it - I didn't think you could possibly have meant some new kind of washing machine.

mig said...

I was enchanted by your walk. And I do hope payment wasn't too extreme.

Christopher said...

Hello, Mig: I wish I'd taken the camera now. But then the mental images one forms from the description are often more entertaining than than the actuality, as Picasso and others might have said.

Sarah said...

Bloody hell.....I've just posted on my blog and you've already done it....sort of...is this art C ?
Are U telepathic? maybe it's me....this reminds me of the 100 monkey theory. blimey

Sarah said...

ps glad you are feeling better

Christopher said...

Erm...I'm with you up to a point, Sah. And thanks, yes, things are going better.