In the days of black and white

Back in the day when everything was in black and white and directed by David Lean or Jacques Tati, our wee village would have been quite down at heel.  The photo gallery in the tiny town hall shows kids with one sock up, one sock down and hair that looks as if it has been cut with garden shears.  Houses were patched up to make do, much like the one in the pic still is.  People stand proudly beside their rickety farm machinery with embarrassed grins and clothing hitched up at the waist in the most rudimentary of ways.    But nowadays most of the houses have been restored, many are maison secondaires used only during the summer months.  I often wonder what it would have been like to live here a hundred years go.  Not that life is necessarily easier in 2017, I had three conference calls today, okay that's cissy stuff, but in between I gave my chainsaw a service and stacked up logs for the winter.  N spent a lot of her day painting xylophene on wooden beams.  But we sat back this evening with a little wine, still surrounded by the heat of the day, even now, at 9.30pm it is still warm enough to sit outside in T shirts.