Back in deepest France

9am on Friday morning, and I've just had breakfast and unpacked the car. While I've been away it has hardly rained at all - the grass is looking very yellow and thin - while overnight and this morning there has been a spectacular thunderstorm with lightning on the hills all round the house, and heavy rain. Now it's daylight the thunder is still rumbling but the lightshow has finished, and we're up in the raincloud with no visibility beyond the nearest hedges.

11 hours driving yesterday and I was hit by that curious evolutionary (?) problem, coming over really sleepy between 2 and 4 in the afternoon - the heat of the day on those African savannahs, and the best time to lie down. Really difficult staying awake, and then it simply passed off entirely and the rest of the drive was so easy.

The wedding went off perfectly (and I'll write about it later) but now it's back to Mourjou and its builders. Three of them promised to work while I was away, but of the three only M Bouquier actually did: so we do have a kitchen, though as the plumber wasn't on site it isn't yet connected up and can't be used. The electrician hasn't shown up at all, while the menuisier, who positively assured me he'd be hard at work on the balcony, also hasn't set foot anywhere near here. But on the plus side, M le Maire has made a really good start in tiling the bathrooms, and he'd made no promises at all. The downstairs shower room is pretty well finihed - the one part he hasn't done is clearly waiting for us to say what we want him to do.

The weather has had a startling effect on the peach tree outside the front door of the barn: the large crop of peaches are twice the size they were before, and the tree is bowed down with the weight making it hard to get in the front door. The peaches are however rock-hard at the present, so it'll be a while before we start enjoying them.

On getting back late last night I knocked on Leontine's door and we had a chat about the wedding and the grandchildren, but didn't stay long as the house needed opening up. Lots of cobwebs (one of those fun jobs for later this morning), and the bats seem to have moved out of the kitchen window and into the attic. Everything else seems absolutely fine, which is distinctly encouraging, and no sign of the flies which can sometimes provide a field sport for the flyswatters.

This morning Jean-Pierre was filling jerricans of water for his cows, which he has moved to a field at Leynhac (not enough grass here), and the field next to our barn is only occupied by his pretty brown-blonde horse and her foal.



This might explain the absence of flies. Jean-Pierre helped me unload the bandsaw from the car, as it is too heavy for me to do by myself. Everything - particularly the grandfather clock - arrived safely and undamaged, and the clock is now ticking away happily in the room next door. It can't yet go into the barn - it will have to wait until the plugpoints are fitted and the walls are painted. Next week? Or next year?

We'll have a bit of extra decorating in the barn as the redstart has raised another brood in the barn, and the signs of occupation can be seen on absolutely every flat surface, but particularly - of course - on the wooden staircase that we sanded down so carefully. The (single) chick seems to be sufficiently large to be evicted, so I'll try to flush her and her mother out, and then make sure the windows stay closed as much as possible.