While Wilf and I discussed the meaning of life and the elasticity of time over a coffee and a bowl of water, the house echoed to the sound of the roofer (replacing the slates) , the plasterer ( patching up the boot sized hole in the ceiling) , and the decorator ( an unexpected arrival ). The decorator is a chain smoking lady, barely five feet tall, who dresses in a white t-shirt and black cycling shorts. Her name is Aude. This causes great hilarity among the aforementioned younger members of the family who pronounce the name as 'odd'. 'Hi Odd'. 'How's it going Odd'. The names is perhaps not altogether misplaced as she holds lengthy conversations with herself while working away. Yesterday was a day for discussing who would be the next President ( apparently she does not like Monsieur Sarkozy), the relative merits of Farrow and Ball as opposed to supermarket own brand paint, and the various idiots that had lacquered the roof beams. This is a not a case of talking out loud but an altogether more worrying bi-polar ability to take both sides of an argument.
The garlic fair continues. After yesterdays attempt to break the world record for garlic peeling ( they didn't) today sees the award for the best decorated garlic strand. Can anyone out there in dogblogland can beat that for excitement ?