Thursday, June 17, 2010

World War III.

What started as a disagreement between Madame Bay and the pool man over muddy feet and her freshly washed tile floors soon escalated into all out war. I missed the opening salvoes but by the time I came downstairs to find out what all the fuss was about Madame Bay and the pool guy were animatedly waving their arms about and shouting at each other - the words psychotherapeute and salope bouncing off the rafters. At this point a delighted Wilf decided to come down and join in the fun, his barking drowned out by this marvellous, unconstrained, pyrotechnic display of gallican insanity. No intervention on my part was going to stop them - indeed despite my best efforts at peacekeeping my presence went largely unnoticed. . With a final burst of decidedly ungentlemanly barrack room French the pool engineer , accompanied by the morose frog netting lad in blue bib overalls, stormed off taking the pool cover with them. Ah, the joys of French country life.

After that being in the house with Madame Bay was like being locked up with a grizzly bear with a sore head. Doors slammed, radios were turned up to full volume, the hoover was used to punish rather than clean the carpets , and vaguely discernible mutterings emanated from our chiffoned leviathan as she bustled about. Time for Wilf to join me in the car and go and buy some wine. Lesson #1 for a long and happy life : If you can cut the atmosphere with a knife then its time to make yourself scarce.

In a shop next to the wine merchants saw a doormat with a Scottie on it. Thought of picking it up for the Rocky Creek Scotties folk but as Wilf was about to christen the postcard rack we hurried off before embarrassment struck us. Thankfully, 'the font' will be back home this afternoon. Time enough for tempers to have cooled and for 'the fonts' diplomatic skills to be brought into play.


  1. Retreating to the wine merchants was a wise and timely strategy.

    XXXOOO Daisy, Kendra & Bella

    The mat looks more like a westie, or other terrier.

  2. I'm sure the Pool man wouldn't make the Beautiful Highways Committee

  3. Wow, it sounds like quite the heated exchange! I think it's better that you and Wilf left too, then there would be no witnesses...

  4. i can just imagine the encounter...funny stuff!!
    does Madame Bay come every day?

  5. Thanks for the thought - but we're glad you got Wilf out of the way in a timely manner. And we do have to agree with Scotsmad - we think that mat is a Westie. But we bet there is a Scottie behind there!!

    Does Madame Bay only come once a week - maybe by next week, she will cool down enough to talk about it. Just be glad you're not married to her - imagine the earful her poor hubby got last night - LOL!!

  6. Hmmm, I saw a black and white Scottie-themed china tea service the other day (including an almost life-size West Highland Terrier cookie jar) that reminded me of the Rocky Creek Scotties as well. Knowing our postal handlers, it never would have made it off the Island in one piece.

  7. How I long to see a photo of your "chiffoned leviathan" and what fun for Wilf to be in the middle of the fray. Oh and dear Angus, I might be wrong, but from way over here in New Hampshire it looks like that sweet little pooch on the door mat is a Westie. But as my Buzzy MacDuff would point out; "A terrier is a terrier!" Arrroooo!
    Yankee Gal

  8. Retreating for wine was the best (only?) response! I bet Madame Bay might have enjoyed a glass too! BOL!


  9. I haven't heard the word "salope" in many a moon -- but it must have stung Madame Bay!!!

    Did morose lad take remaining frogs with him, or are they to be lunch fare?

    Looking at those trees along the roadway, we were wondering whether Wilf has had a chance to make them his own.

    xxx Joan

  10. Maybe a mat just like the one you speak about is what you need to keep your kitchen floors clean and the tempers in your home down to a low roar☺

  11. Once again I laughed aloud at your really put the words together so perfectly!

  12. We agree with the Rocky Creek Scotties - that's definitely a Westie - ears further apart and shorter, snout less elongate than a Scottie.
    Oh, so sorry to be pedantic. As is you didn't have enough dealing with a Mme Bay in a huff!
    Gail and Bertie.

  13. Sorry we've been AWOL - what a fracas - sounds like a trip to buy wine was a perfect getaway from the cacaphony! You are such a gifted writer - I thoroughly enjoy reading your posts when we can get over here!
    Bonne Chance avec les personnes bruyant chez vous!
    xo Sammie and Maman

  14. I thought you were going to get the wine for Madame Bay! Too darned funny! Sometimes the only thing you can do is get out of the way.

    Perhaps they have a PON mat in that stack that you could pick up to avoid future irritation to the effervescent Mme Bay!

    Are all the frogs out of the pool now?

  15. I would want Madame Bay on my side at all times.

  16. Why must they always wait until the most embarrassing moments to go to the bathroom? :)

  17. I agree with Bunny...M.Bay needs a bottle or two of some nerve calming agent. SHE always says all she has to do is start mopping the floor and every man, boy and dog within 2 miles will show up in the hall, insisting they need to get from point A to point B traversing her clean wet floors.


  18. yes, i think madame bay might have benefited from a glass or two of the wine you picked up!

    the booker man and asa's mama

  19. Madame Bay's antics make me laugh!

    Perfect timing to leave for a bottle of wine, that way there are no witnesses to the bodies. As others have said, she may have benefitted from a glass or two.

  20. It's "Big Bad John"

    (Big John Big John)
    Every mornin' at the mine you could see him arrive
    He stood six foot six and weighed 2-45
    Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip
    And everybody knew you didn't give no lip to Big John
    (Big John Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)
    Nobody seemed to know where John called home
    Just drifted into town and stayed all alone
    He didn't say much he kinda quiet and shy
    And if you spoke at all you just said hi to Big John
    Somebody said he came from New Orleans
    Where he got in a fight over a Cajun Queen
    And a crashin' blow from a huge right hand
    Sent a Louisiana fellow to the Promised Land Big John
    (Big John Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)
    Then came the day at the bottom of the mine
    When a timber cracked and men started cryin'
    Miners were prayin' and hearts beat fast
    And everybody thought that they'd breath their last cept John
    Through the dust and the smoke of this man made hell
    Walked a giant of a man that the miners knew well
    Grabbed a saggin' timber and gave out with a groan
    And like a giant oak tree he just stood there alone Big John
    (Big John Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)
    And with all of his strenght he have a mighty shove
    Then a miner yelled out there's a light up above
    And twenty men Scrambled from a would be grave
    Now there's only one left down there to save Big John
    With jacks and timbers they started back down
    Then came that rumble way down in the ground
    And the smoke and gas belched out of the mine
    Everybody knew it way the end of the line for Big John
    (Big John Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)
    Now they never reopened that worthless pit
    They just placed a marbled stand in front of it
    These few words're written on that stand
    At the bottom of this mine lies a big big man Big John
    (Big John Big John) Big Bad John (Big John Big John) Big Bad John

    Hamish & Sophie