Narrow escape for lorry driver

I should have known that the nice lady decorators insistence that we put in arrosage (automatic garden watering system) into parts of the garden after the last two months of glorious weather would have the correct effect. She was right (nothing has changed). The plants that were wilting a few days ago in 30 degree heat are now all luxuriant again and the damned grass is growing. However, the arrosage has not yet been turned on. This is because we have had thunderstorms of biblical proportions over the last few days. Clearly the gods of rain are angry at her for insisting on the new watering system. At first I thought tennis last night was going to be a victim of this torrential unseasonable rain, but the clouds rolled away and we were bathed in wonderful sunshine, and the good news is that I managed to extend my unbeaten run this year on the tennis courts into June, but the bad news is that the camping trip in Bluebell to the Var on Saturday looks decidedly doubtful, unless I can get fins attached in time. Could I then call her Bluewhale? If I cannot blame the weather on the arrosage, then I can definitely blame it on UK tourists; there are several old friends in town so the sooner they leave and take this British weather back with them, the better.

My picture today was taken last weekend when we were in Cannes courtesy of old pal Wayne Brown from FR2dayand shows that nice lady decorator giving her customary laser beam look to a lorry driver who had edged within one inch of our table when taking a right turn. The UK Health and Safety nappy brigade would have had a field day with this one, dozens of happy revellers in the Cafe du la Marche having to move slightly to accommodate the lorry, with not a gendarme in sight and clearly all crash barriers are banned in Cannes. But no-one was hurt, the lorry driver who was in the deepest danger was able somehow to avoid the laser beams emanating from that nice lady decorator (although I thought I detected a searing of the paint work) and more important, not a drop of rose was spilled.

Lorry driver dices with death. Note the hand from behind keeping the umbrella out of the path of the truck, unless they were asking permission to go to the toilet?

Given the crap weather yesterday, a French national holiday, at one stage before tennis was rekindled, I considered that I may feel the need last evening to venture into the Queens Legs or la Kavanou, strictly you understand, to see if there are any potential bank victims that I have failed yet to save by introducing them to the financial wonders of Currencies Direct. Some people may think it cruel of me not to mention to that nice lady decorator that it was holiday today, she is of course working and I hope blissfully unaware that there may have been an excuse to avoid labour today. She is a far better person when she is working, all her energy is taken up in pursuit of her work to the extent that the nagging does not have the same intensity. Thus I am always encouraging her to work as much as she can. I even thought about daring to suggest that she hand over her takings to the man of the house when she comes home, although even in her weakened and tired state, this would have  dangerous territory for a joke, so I chickened out. Man or mouse I hear you cry, and as The Reverend Jeff would always say, “show me the cheese” Lunch today, weather permitting with a couple of pilots, a plumber and their wives, should be an interesting meeting of minds.

Chris France