Holah! And may I give you due notice that the wedding of Maddi and Bruno has taken place and they are now married. The multi coloured person with the hand painted French flag is the 'vicar-type', who is the under-mayor of Castelnau village. Maddi is the one in the white frock, and Bruno is standing in between her and the under-mayor.
And in their back garden the marriage this all took place. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and it was very friendly and great fun. The swimming pool is just behind them.
Here be proof that they be 'done'. "Hooray!" And again, "Hooray".
And a song from Maddie to Bruno, and then a song from Bruno to Maddi. Ah, sweet!
What a jolly bash it was. Much frivolity, champagne, jigging about, and general mayhem. Plus we only had to toddle back down the road a little way to get back home.
And may I say that if it had been warmer then I would have had a splash in the pool. After all I am soixante deux (62) and can therefore be considered eccentric enough to do so. But it is still only May after all, and the water was a tad on the cold side. I had try-out sneaky toe-dip earlier just in case it was warmer than freezing. It wasn't.
But I had my dunk the next day. The sun shone brightly again, and Lester seduced me into the shower in the house. Well, not 'seduce' exactly...just made leading comments about how warm the weather was, and how warm the shower was because the water heater had been switched on for a while, and "why don't you have a try, I'll keep guard in case anyone comes calling."
Instructions followed: this is how you switch the tap on, you stand in this Halfords plastic box, you put your clothes on this plastic chair here, when you have finished you stand on this pallet,etc. And away he goes.
I am left. OOh. The first time I have disrobed in our house. Our roofless house, but nevertheless, our house. Oooh. Gosh. All comes off. OOOOOOoooooohhhhhh! Into the Halfords Box. Shower on. "Lester," I yells, "It's toooooo hottttt!". In he rushes. To my rescue he comes. He twiddles. All is well. Mmmm, that's better.
Onto the pallet. On with my clothes. My first shower this year. In the open air. In our house. OOooooohhhHHHHHHhhhhhhoooooo!
And now we are parted. From Pau, France, Lester has flown. Out to the UK he has gone, to do London, and to earn the money for the roof of our roofless house. Bless. I waved him off after he had booked in and had the security check, just in case he wasn't deemed a suitable occupant for the Ryanair plane which was going to take him off with itself when it left a couple of hours later. It's his passport. It makes him look like terrorist. No worries. Through he went.
So back up to Labartere I drove, musing on the trips I have already made to and fro the airport. We are building a history here already. I have met two new neighbours: the Marquee (not sure how to spell that one) who is rich, can open over forty bottles of almagnac just to have a taster from each bottle, does casino trips to Morroco and other places to while away his time, and looks as lonely as hell proving that money can't ever buy you peace of mind, and the Railway Lady, whose name I can't pronounce let alone spell, but lives upstairs at the old railway station, is a widow (her husband drank himself into not being here), and waves at the maize trains which occasionally potter up and down the line. Both were at the wedding. Both I had fun with. Neither went into the pool either, it being only May and a tad on the cold side as I said before.
But Eric did. A big splash he made, he being a big man. Getting to the grand age of 50 last week has entitled him to start practising for when he gets eccentric in ten years time.. Plus he was carrying a tank of alcohol in his tummy which sort of pushed him along a bit.
Last week him and Bruno walked along the railway line at midnight, after a 40-bottle almagnac tasting session at the Marquee's house which is just along from the Railway Lady who is just along from Bruno's house. Fortunately the trains go to sleep here when it gets dark. So no damage done to anyone, including the train.
So, waving to Hubs in the Uk.....yahoo! Got back home OK. Behaving. Car OK. Bools OK. All the neighbours know that you are away so will be keeping an eye on me to make sure I stay OK.
Lessons I have learnt: That dancing on the lawn can play havoc with one's best shoes, so to wear an older pair when the occasion next arises. That it is best to put one's shoes away from the Halfords box when having a shower and not leave them conveniently placed to step into when one's shower is finished. Wet shoes are not nice. That it is best to smile with one's best smile when one is waving off one's Hubs at the airport because then he will take that smile away with him on his journey.
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