Life; a bowl of cherries?

Pesky thunderstorms caused grief in more ways that one yesterday; apart from the obvious threat of the inability to sit outside in the open air (until the sun came back just about in time for a sun downer), the main problem was our house guests forsaking rose for red and white wine, both of which are considerably more expensive, especially when Pedro decided he really like my small stock of Barolo, having spotted it from 50 paces as he arrived. I had hidden the Chateau Gloria, at least for the time being, but he has a nose with a bloodhound if there is a decent red within a square mile.

Before I had time to uncork several bottles, several people chanced by. Colonel and Mr Clipboard came for a last drink before they depart for reality which is England tomorrow, so I thought it only apt that I should be wearing on my forehead the banknote that I parted them with yesterday at the golf course. I think they appreciated the gesture but cannot be certain.

Talking of golf, the first of the Savin wars golf matches will be playing out as you read this. If the result goes the way it almost inevitably does, then tomorrow expect to read a full report of a glorious triumph, if  the almost impossible happens and the handicap system inexplicably lets me down then I suspect I may have other important subjects to cover which may mean that I simply do not have the space for the full story. Instead there may be some useful information for foreign exchange users about how they can benefit by opening account with Currencies Direct.

And so, before I had managed to open more than a couple of bottles, the wingco and his delicious wife also “chanced by”. This is of course far too much of a coincidence so I suspect there was some subterfuge by that nice lady decorator, as they appeared out of nowhere clutching a nice fresh Merlot, so fresh it was still steaming and the wingco promptly dispatched it, along with several other bottles in his usual direct non nonsense fashion. He was enjoying himself so much that I found him quite early on with some cherries hanging from his ears, when I took this photograph. As you can imagine, I have no idea why he was adorned in such a fashion, but at least it gives me an opportunity to come up with a natty caption for the photo. As you can also see it is still light, so excuses in the form of “it was late, I had drunk a little too much” will not be accepted.

Tragically flawed ear muffs? A new style of earphones? or just another fashion statement that I will never understand?

I know this post is a little late today, but I have a good excuse. During the thunderstorm yesterday, the lightning gods, clearly impressed by the prose, style and wit exhibited in this daily column decided to try to boost my circulation by the application of some of its power into my wireless router, which blew up, so the delay is due to the repair work.

Due entirely to the lateness of this post, I am happy to be able to report that another 10 Euro note is, as I write, sticking to my forehead in the customary ritual which follows a glorious victory. 4 and 2 may not sound a lot to a non golfer, but let me tell you non golfers out there, that I administered a thorough thrashing to the venerable old gentleman who was kind enough to lose to me in such a sporting fashion. I think it was the victory sign that he flashed at the last hole, but again I cannot be certain

Chris France