Friday, January 20, 2012
The mayor, the MP and the leather patches .
An overcast morning . The font heads off to the IKEA in Toulouse to stock up on pickled herring and other Swdish ' delicacies '. At eight the builder arrives to finish repairing the hole in the wall. For much of the morning , he and Madame Bay argue loudly about the mess he's made. In the midst of this lengthy disagreement the mayor arrives at the front door with our local Member of Parliament.
The MP is not as I thought a Radical Socialist but a Radical Republican . Angus has no idea what this means . He could be anywhere on the political spectrum - either a French Barney Frank or a French Rick Santorum ? . Angus decides to keep off the subject of politics altogether . Wilf , who has had his sleep interrupted, pointedly wanders off to the quiet of the dining room and settles down under the table with a huff and a sigh .
The MP has leather patches on the elbow of his jacket . Something I last saw forty years ago on a teacher at school . Perhaps leather patches are coming back into fashion ? Our MP also speaks with the rapidity of a Kentucky tobacco auctioneer . Add to that the strong ' Oc ' accent and the communication is decidely one sided. Angus smiles and does his best politically neutral deaf / mute routine.
Over the statutory glass of champagne - " Oh well. Just the one " - the mayor informs me that the government will pay for two thirds of the cost of restoring the First World War frescoes in the church . Angus decides not to mention government cuts and the crisis in the €urozone. Lesson #1 when living abroad : As a foreigner never ever comment on the politics of your host country.
In the afternoon a trip to the supermarket for Jaffa Cakes . One very happy Wilf . Another day in France Profonde.