creepy morning. Lift needed next Weds.

Creepy morning - thick fog and through the drifting spaces glimpses of white clad mountains.... cold too. Brrrrrrrrrrrrr

Anyway, thats by the way . This blog is asking for a lift for Annie and Pete, getting in to Toulouse in the morning of Weds 8th and needing to get to Carcassonne for 16.30, thence to Couzia. Bound to be someone out there doing just that -:) - and longing for the company of the two darlings -

Hmm come to think of it I need to be in Toulouse that day so if you want company in that direction can I hitch a lift in? (There's work on the line between Carcas and Toulouse and the bus takes forever.) Its the Captains birthday so I'm meeting him on the late plane, missing A and P by some several hours, alas.

Monday in Tilling

Captain H had to leave early this morning to catch his plane back to Gatwick. Last time he was diverted in terribly high winds to Stanstead and missed his day; today he was diverted to Orly as another passenger had a critical illness needing immediate treatment. Day lost. Think maybe I should publish his timetable so you know what planes to avoid.

Its lovely here. France is under a cold white blanket which has yet to hit us in Tilling. The TV is advising prudence and people clearly are staying home despite the clear blue sky - there is scarcely any traffic and the few you meet on the street want a chat because there is no-one else to talk to. Its a bit post-rapture. Oh, talking of which I hear that the aliens are getting near; the 'Space Brothers' [possibly aka giant green lizards] will arrive definitely this year. The Illuminati prevented them from landing last year but their power is ending. Then we'll see some changes....

any guesses

I'm too mean to offer prizes but anyway you'll never guess.(... and the fact its such a bad picture doesn't help.)
So I'II tell you.
Its a bit of melted plastic, right? Not just any old bit of melted plastic though. This bit was melted during dinner last night as Margaret left a plastic base on top of the log burning stove which rather affected the excellent meal :)
Hilary and Mike, John, Margaret and Bob were mercifully not overcome by fumes but some of us were rather overcome by booze and are a bit slow this morning. Its snowing - grumpy, granular, mealymouthed snow - so the market is slight. Its a dozy day by the fire for me.

Thanks for an unforgettable evening folks!

more anachronisms

which is the more anachronistic - the sign
or the fact that it has a hunters bullet through it?

Captain H is here till Monday, lovely:) Here he is waking Lily down by the river opposite the chateau des Ducs de Joyeuese.

what a day -

Can't remember the morning.

The afternoon was spent with Yann-the-photographer, watching him photograph the last years' work. Depressing or what.

Then - incredibly - I drove a car. It was a dark one, not very big. Margaret's. She had volunteered to give me a driving lesson, at least to see if I would like it> We both survived. I have never driven a car before and my knees were trembling as I got out, which makes me suspect the whole business of being sexual or akin to sex...

At the little celebration afterwards involving blanquette, we got into a position where we had to go and see Kat and check that the bar l'Origynal was OK. As a result of that I can suggest a drink invented by Luc for the evening, called La Confidence - very good too.
Below you can see the state of Kats gallery. But is it art??

hedging the bets...

So, anyone know whats happening? First was the lavender hedge by the little car park over the railway line at the side of the Maire. Pulled up and disappeared without so much as a bye-your- leave. And not replaced. Then the hedge the length of the peluse, the other side of the river, beautiful big long dense hedge; I asked as it was being destroyed, why? and was told, disease. Not been replaced. The the hedge by the little fountain (the two phallic stones one), boff! Disappeared. The big laurel hedge by the river by CrossClement uprooted, leaving bald riverbank. Then yesterday morning, this one had gone - it used to run parallel to the short one that is (so far) still there.

Et alors???

Then again, somethings are appearing. Here we have a Templar well apparently growing in the impasse des Chevaliers at Campagne- sur-Aude, a genuinely Templar enclave and ex-fort.




Walked to Campagne yesterday for the pleasure of it - beautiful day as is today, spring pretending to have arrived - also (really) arrived are John and Clare, here for a measly week, chauffeured by a nameless gentleman farmer. Took photies of them in the market but they were rubbish.

So, farewell then....

E.J. Thribb (17.5) writes:

So, farewell then, Maevis.
Keiths mum thinks you were here before God.
She may be right.

Hilary and Mike, Dermot and Kate, Pete, Kat, Oscar, Margaret and me gathered to feed Maeve before the off tomorrow. Good evening of good stories, memories and wild hypothesis.
Can't believe she's going. Neither can she; she'll be back! All regret that Maeve hasn't been interviewed and written up - perhaps another day. What she doesn't know of the esoteric history of the region doesn't exist.