Lost golf tee found

Whilst that nice lady decorator would support the catastrophic canine Banjo through thick and thin, contrary to my basic instincts, and frankly the instincts of any right thinking man or woman, we do agree that the senior dog, the amiable springer called Max requires special attention. Thus yesterday, in the face of the injury he had sustained whilst out walking, that nice lady decorator found some bandages and a bottle of the astringent antiseptic TCP in order to administer repairs. This should never been confused with PCP, or Angel Dust as it is known in some quarters.

Exhausted by this activity, and with the arrival in the late afternoon sunshine of Peachy and Suzanne Butterfield, who were on their way to the Mougins School Pass Out Parade otherwise known as graduation, and who were in need of a restorative graduating glass of rose, a bottle or several were opened. It has been very hot recently, and in our house a couple of ice cubes are often dropped into the wine to ensure it does not get warm. What was a bit of a surprise was that the piece of ice that was assigned to my glass smelled of TCP.  As I sniffed the wine, the overpowering aroma knocked me to the floor. “I needed a bit of ice to cool his foot” said that nice lady decorator, but why she had to put that particular piece back in the freezer so that it could be served to me in my rose is a question to which I did not receive an answer. Had it been the lunchtime after she could perhaps have argued that it was the hair of the dog?

We stayed in. Just think of that for a moment, we stayed in whilst living in the Cote D’Azur in summer. It is such a rare treat not to have a social engagement that I really enjoyed it.  We sat under the stars with a glass of red Roussillon wine from a tiny vineyard called Terrasous that we discovered a decade ago and which remains one of our favourites, in the warmth and in complete harmony and at one with the world.  That was until that nice lady decorator attempted to alter the style of clothing that both sprog 1 and 2 were planning to wear for the post graduation festivities. She has never fully embraced the concept of the subjective, or indeed of personal sartorial choice and she clearly has a monopoly on opinion, a monopoly that both sprogs, in their infinite wisdom, chose to question. There will be blood.

My picture today, rather than being taken by Currencies Direct customer Slash and Burn Thornton Allan from The Big Picture is actually a picture if the man himself. I snapped this earlier in the week in the web when he finally managed to find the golf tee he had been looking for. Quite why it looks like it has been burned at one end  is a bit of a mystery. Perhaps that is why it had a rather evocative aroma?

So that’s where my golf tee went

Once again today there is nothing specific in the diary but hey, this is Valbonne in the summer. I will wager that the day will not pass without some kind of social activity. Tomorrow is different. Already I know I am playing golf with the Landlubbers at Chateau Begude and meeting Mr Clipbeard in Valbonne Square in the evening so crash helmets and goggles to the ready. He has been away from France for months, has a thirst of Peachyesque proportions and an appetite to match. There will be casualties.

Chris France