Cat alarm?

During the summer, I featured a well-trained battery operated mower which automatically came out every day, cut the grass and then returned to its hutch to recharge itself. I liked it because I fondly dreamed of how Banjo the grisly canine would get on with it. I imagined him cowered in some corner howling and waiting for it to shave some fur from him, that at least might make him smell a little less. This little fellow, (the mower not the dog) owned by the Boltd Christmas family (I know, crazy name, crazy people) in Biot, has been stolen. It seems to me that the thieves may have a bit of Irish in them. It wont work without its charger, it needs wires set in the grass to stop it mowing flowerbeds or committing watery suicide in swimming pools and it is a rather boring shade of green. So if anyone sees something that looks like  vacuum cleaner out on its own, let me know. Maybe it just left home?

Yesterday we had some rain. It was not forecast, and it is the first since July. I did not move to the south of France to be rained on in summer, so I want my money back. I know it only lasted for 40 minutes, but it seemed like an English winter for nearly an hour before the sun returned. I know it is sunny again today, but there is a point of principle here.

I am supposed to be being dragged kicking and screaming  this morning to some obscure rugby match being televised at The Source Restaurant which is not in Roquefort as I had been lead to believe but Le Rouret. The French and the Welsh are due to commence battle in the also ran World Rugby Cup. Why I have to be there instead of being allowed to languish in my comfortable and pungent pit, I have no idea. Oh yes I have, it’s because that nice lady decorator thinks it will be a decent chance to get an early drink. My suggestion that she drive herself and leave me to sleep was met with that usual no-nonsense expression, and once all the bedding had been put in the wash leaving me naked on the bed, I thought perhaps she had a point. At least she had made a point.

My picture today was taken in Valbonne earlier in the week. The car should not have been parked there, but I think leaving a guard cat on its roof is an interesting thief deterrent, I wonder if that would count as an alarm for car insurance premium purposes?

Cat on a hot tin roof?

At a dinner party this evening, one Ieuan the Welshman, the Graves families gardener, may be in attendance.  Now on the one hand if the French give the Welsh the walloping the English would like to, then I will delighted to see him, but if by some miracle they overcome the French then I may myself be overcome by sickness or something and cry off. The very idea that Wales could appear in the Rugby World Cup Final is as preposterous as it will be sickening. On the other hand, the wonderful French side, of whom I was admittedly slightly dismissive until last week when England handed them the game on a plate, deserve wholeheartedly to get the chance to get ripped to shreds by the Kiwis, who will no doubt dismiss Australia’s challenge tomorrow.

Monday sees the return to the Riviera of Currencies Direct customer Mr Clipboard and I have already received my red marked schedule of activities for Tuesday, his first full day back in charge of everything. I shall report for tennis at 10.15 and then arrive promptly at the Auberge St Donat for lunch, and will of course has had a haircut as ordered before he arrives.

Chris France