Hedge Fun

Today was the day for tackling the big laurel hedge.  We took it easy, half before lunch, half after.  Lunch break was two hours!  The new, smaller, trailer proved capacious, so happy days.  Other than that the village was quiet. Mr C, whose wife left him last year "for a younger man" (so the gossip goes), continues to play sad music.  We had a pleasant morning coffee with the Yorkshire incomers.  The mad ethnographists (forced at last by the Mairie to abandon their composting toilet) are off in South America somewhere.  Slightly mad Charles (70 a few weeks ago) was to be seen squatting on his lawn, chain sawing through some branches that he had cut off his trees (I so hope that his legs are still attached), whilst his wife, dressed as her mother might have been in the 1950's, jogged up the road claiming that her strange jogging gait helps with the "mal de dos".  It may or may not, but it certainly helps to keep up the eccentric look of the village! Various local farmers in variously sized tractors chuffed by waving cheerily and we felt quite normal. Unless you count an emergency shopping run late in the day to replace a leaking weedkiller pressure sprayer.  The downstairs toilet continues to dribble, but Ebay has kindly dispatched the replacement part, so all will dry up soon.