Whats the time Mr wolf?

A public service, this is what this column has become. Yesterday I had an email from a reader in England concerned that he had not heard from his mother, who lives in Valbonne, for 3 days, and from whom he heard every day either by phone or skype. I sent Viv Frost around to check before I got an email saying that mother had gone to Liverpool and forgot to tell anyone. It is more likely that she was ashamed to tell anyone she was going back to the UK, and especially that far up north. After all, when one moves to the south of France one hopes the days of languishing up north are behind one.

Talking of Liverpool, I saw a rare beggar outside the bank this morning. When I came out he said “any change?”, I said no, you are still poor. Actually that is not true, it was adapted from a joke sent to me by a good friend whom I cannot possibly name but Peter Lynn will know of whom I speak.

The “weather of the devil” is forecast over the next few days and I blame those who have been complaining about the lack of rain. October is statistically the wettest month of the year so maybe the approaching deluge is just a bit late? Anyway, todays picture was taken last week of the Brague River and probably reflects what my garden will look like by the weekend if the weather predictions are correct.

My favourite river, the Brague flowing through the Valmasque forest

I have discovered that my French bank manager is coming to the book launch on Monday. I am still not certain of the reason but it is a bit unsettling. Why is she coming? Perhaps she is a fan of populist English literature? More likely it is a freebee courtesy of French Mortgage Xpress and she has no idea what to expect.

Many nicknames have emanated from this column, mainly as a result of my feeble attempts to protect the drunk, the depraved and the guilty, after their being caught out doing something stupid or worse but I am not responsible for naming Wonky eyed Pete, apparently well-known in the less salubrious establishments in Valbonne and no connection can be made with the nice wonky eyed lady decorator, still sporting an eye patch and dark glasses after mutilating herself in a friends garden earlier in the week. I told her she has to look out for herself and keep an eye out for dangerous plants. it seems that I am not as funny as I think I am.

John Otway calls to give me the exciting news that the BBC are screening again on New Years Eve his epic Top Of The Pops appearance in 1977. He will apparently be interviewed to discuss the inner meaning of “Cor Baby, That’s Really Free” the title of his first hit for the programme but I suspect he will use this as a shameless opportunity to promote Otway The Movie, the feature film he is making about himself on a tiny budget. How tiny? For instance, he has asked me to cost a helicopter shoot over Lake Geneva to get an aeriel shot of his playing his epic song of the same name with a small orchestra aboard a boat on the lake as it enters the harbour in Geneva, I think he thinks we can do it for about thirty quid (about 35 euros at today’s exchange rate. I am awaiting Mr Wolffs quotation and for some reason am reminded of a childhood game which involved saying “look behind you Mr Wolf”.

Chris France