It's now getting decidedly darker in the mornings. Six thirty and the sun hasn't yet risen above the hill tops. Wilf relishes the cooler starts to the day. A chance to rush around sniffing and exploring before the heat builds up. Back home for a coffee and croissant on the terrace. Skimming through the usually staid morning paper the story at the bottom of the front page caught my eye - 'Levi Johnston to run as mayor of Wassilla'. The French press simply can't get enough of this saga. When asked whether people would take Mr.Johnstons run for office seriously, the aptly named Mr.Tank Jones, Levi's manager, is quoted as saying " People questioned Jesus Christ, so I definitely don't care about these mere mortals questioning Levi Johnston". Maybe Bristol was right about him being obsessed with the limelight. At what point does parody segue into tragedy?
Two cars with Belgian registration plates drove through the village at lunchtime yesterday. They didn't stop long. The fact that they actually parked in the square and sat for five minutes looking at the houses and the oleander filled Versailles planters counts as excitement in our sleepy little corner of rural France. Whereas other parts of Europe get inundated with hoardes of vacationers we're lucky if we catch sight of a tourist from one week to the next. Maybe it's something to do with everything being closed. Trust us to choose the Marie Celeste of villages.
Aude the chain smoking decarartrice in the dungarees has returned to finish off the hallway. She is taking her truck on holiday to Austria next week and needs to earn money for the petrol. That works just fine for us. Wilf is particularly delighted. He lies in the hallway , eyes quarter open, ears occasionally twitching, listening to Aude discussing both sides of life. His own personal conversationalist. If only she would bring sausages then life would be perfect.
Do you really want hordes of tourists. Perhaps the village appears as a ghost village if it isn't sporting fast food outlets or souvenir shops.
ReplyDeleteDogs are great conversationalists, the always listen, or at least feign interest.
XXXOOO Daisy, Kendra & Bella
TANK Jones? Seriously? I am so glad that I was not born and named in Alaska.....(Heaven knows what they call their dogs).
ReplyDeleteToodle pip!
Bertie.
Wilf is looking particularly radiant this morning He has one of those dog faces that just makes me double up when I see him What a sweet quiet part of the world you live in
ReplyDeleteThe news here about Levi yesterday also mentioned a reality show for him...I'm hoping this isn't true--I've never heard the kid say much more than a sentence and wonder if he can...Thankfully he dropped off the radar a bit because of the story of the flight attendant from Jet Blue.
ReplyDeleteI love coming here for my Bristol and Levi news - since I never actually read any of it here.
ReplyDeleteThe strange thing is - I have to read a blog written in France by a Scotsman to know what is going on in the US - sometimes bliss is a wonderful thing!!
ReplyDeletePersonally, I'm waiting to hear Levi is running against Sarah Palin for President.
ReplyDeleteI can just picture Wilf watching Aude! Perhaps it's the canine version of reality TV!
What? No Starbucks, McDonads or GAP on each block? You may have lucked into the last corner of the world that hasn't succumbed to "one world, one mall." Petey and I walked down Bleecker Street the other day and did not hear one American accent. "Cooze me, where is zee Sex and Zee Ceety house?"
ReplyDeleteI think sausages would be a better subject. Right Wilf! Kisses from Posy!!!!
ReplyDeleteHow funny that Levi and Bristol news is so prevalent in France!
ReplyDeleteJust have to say... I love Wilf.
ReplyDeleteBelieve me, the Palin saga veered off the rails into tragedy long, long ago.
ReplyDeleteWilf is looking particularly handsome today. Has the puppy idea been shelved for awhile? From the photographs, he seems quite well adjusted to life as an only, and therefore much pampered, dog.