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Shrek lives!

August 13, 2011

That nice lady decorator has a way with words, and it is not normally a nice way. As I sat in bed last night with my feet sticking out from beneath the sheets, she drew attention to my bunyans, the very slightly misshapen area by the joint of the big toe, and ventured the opinion that my feet looked like they belonged to Shrek. Having started, she decided to carry on and go the whole hog, telling me that the older I get the more I remind her of Shrek himself. Of course I agreed that he has a lovable nature and perhaps that was what she was alluding to? Given her reaction I am far from certain that I am correct.

Many of you will be aware of the expression “stir crazy”. It refers to when one is imprisoned and desperate to get out of whatever place you are stuck in, which has its origins from people being in prison. So that nice lady decorators announcement that she was stir crazy, having spent two whole evenings at home, drinking wine in the pav, was an exaggeration to say the least.

She insisted on visiting the wine bar in Valbonne, La Kavanou,  and then further insisted on drinking Sancerre by the glass. One glass would have been fine, but I suspect regular readers will know that one glass is never sufficient for her needs. As we walked in we were greeted by Jeroen of Riviera  Home Finders, and his beautiful and artistic partner, the teacher of art herself, Marina Kulik. Their presence made it impossible to avoid the subject of my potential as a male nude model. Luckily, discussion did not last that long, and was truncated somewhat when she got on to the subject of Franck, her regular model with a distinctly gay look on life. It seems that the most important attribute for a nude model is to remain motionless for two hours at a time. I think I would find that difficult at the best of times, but naked, and in close proximity to gay Franck? As Fagin said “I think I better think it out again”.

The good thing about Terrence the Tractor, my new toy for mowing the lawn, is that apart from saving me a great deal of graft, he scares Banjo. Not just because I often swerve off course at full speed towards him; he often barks at Terrance even when he is stationary. My picture today is of Terrance with the mangy mutt banjo on the left and the proper dog Max on the right, but only after I had switched off the engine, as Banjo would not ever been in the same camera shot if Terrance was running.

Banjo, look behind you...

So after a busy week, the weekend and a couple of days of rest, no, three days as Monday is a bank holiday in France. I shall do my best to rest after a frenetic week of playing golf and socialising in my role as Regional Coordinator for Currencies Direct, just one of the many roles vital roles I have in my working life. There is one codicil to this, I will have to break off from relaxation on Sunday to play in the REGS (the Riviera Ex Pats golf Society) golf tournament at the Grande Bastide on Sunday. At Lords last month a met a senior commercial executive from golf makers Taylor Made, a well-known golf marque owned by Adidas, and I think I talked him into sponsoring a REGS event later in the year, so yes, once again golf equals work.

Chris France

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