Sheep dog trials?

Change is said to be inevitable, except perhaps from a vending machine and it must be a welcome change for Peachy Butterfield to leave behind the north of England where he has been for a week, that totally different world where sheep dog trials are common (do they put them on trial because they chase sheep?), and return to the beautiful weather than sums up the south of France in September.

That I am looking forward to Sunday lunch with him and the delectable Suzanne is in no doubt, but what to take as an offering is more tricky, perhaps I should look in his and her Dreembox? It is an on-line portal of Peachy’s invention where you can reveal to your friends what presents you actually want rather than accepting that grim, fly infested potted plant with a fixed grin and the phrase “just what I always wanted”.

This got me to thinking about what kind of things they might have in their list of desires. She will be easy, anything fizzy and alcoholic, he is more difficult (in more ways than one). Perhaps some new earrings for his pet ferret? What about a new sheep dog whistle, or is he an old traditionalist using the ancient whistling through your teeth technique? Perhaps something more modern like a GPS device for his best pigeon? If he ever lost “pidgy”, his all time favourite, he would be inconsolable. I will have a look today and see what inner secrets are revealed.

This will be my last picture taken on L’Exocet during the Bistro Rally earlier in the week. It shows Tim Sharp, web designer for many local portals including Cote d’Azur Villa Rentals doing some service or other for Greg Harris, head honcho there and one of his main clients. This picture speaks volumes (or should I say spits volumes?) about the lengths (sic) he will go to keep his clients happy. Old fashioned service at its best.

Will that be all sir?

Bad news. I discovered last night that The International Club Of The Riviera golf tournament starts at 8am today. How we will be able to play in the dark is a mystery, because as far as I know 8am is several hours before dawn. My attempts to cry off were met with an absolute refusal by George The Curry, the Sri Lankan organiser and the creator of many a great curry as he has appointed me captain of our team, thus by the time you are reading this probably from the comfort of your bed, I will be struggling around a golf course feeling a bit like Stevie Wonder (sorry, that was a bit below the belt) but with a miners light strapped to my forehead to see where I am going. At least such an early start will ensure we are well finished before the aperitif at 12.15 and lunch shortly thereafter. The things I am forced to do to network in my pursuit of customers for Currencies Direct.

Yesterday, it was mentioned to me that the lawn could do with a cut. It was mentioned in that dangerous, lowered voice kind of way that when emanating from that nice lady decorator, I know it is an imperative, not a request, so I dragged Terrence the tractor out from his comfortable little hole and do what was expected of me. There are however some small compensations; Banjo the loathsome hound is afraid of Terrance, especially when Terrance drives at him at top speed, and with that nice lady decorator at a girls lunch and not able to keep an eye on Terrance’s behaviour, or more truthfully, his driver, some recompense was had.

Chris France