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Silent night in sizzling heat

August 4, 2013

There was a surreal moment yesterday in late afternoon when we were sitting listening to Simon and Garfunkel singing Silent Night in 35 degrees whilst eating an Indian meal chez Roly And Poly. It was neither night, it certainly was not silent and that Christmassy feeling with which the song is often associated was not in evidence. Because it was so hot I had decided to wear a floaty white shirt without taking account of what a wonderful selection of curries, supplied by Valbonne’s very own Le Kashmir, the Indian restaurant in the village. As Loud Mouth Largy remarked in late afternoon, my shirt stains were more like a taster menu. What is the difference between the stock market and a graph indicating the sales of my latest book The Valbonne Monologues? Answer; the sales graph will only go up. Yesterday represented a particular upward spike in sales as the lovely Marina Kulik, who runs the art classes at the hangar, and whom organised the competition to paint the cover of this vital manuscript, revealed that she had sold a further 9 copies, and I sold two more on the day, meaning that 132 people have now palpably disagreed with the sentiments of Mr Clipboard who tried to burn a copy in Valbonne Square earlier in the week. Literally hot stuff which ever way you look at it. Amongst the revellers were new Currencies Direct client Blind Lemon Milsted who lived up to is epithet by picking up the guitar to play some hot ad-libbed blues in the evening. I say hot because the subject was mostly curry. He was joined by local estate agent and talented mouth organist Jeroen Zaat. This is his real name, not the usual nickname that I apply at a whim. Who needs to give him a nickname with that moniker? I would have been rightly criticised for making up something utterly unbelievable. For all that he is an excellent chap and he and Marina, who do not share the same surname but appear to an item, are amongst the guests invited today. I shall be asking the usual impertinent questions.

swimming pool love

Roly (on the left) tries rather unmanfully to resist Loudmouth Largy

As the evening drew on, I was able to capture a moment of pure man love when I captured this image of Loudmouth Largy and Roly Bufton celebrating Roly’s birthday in a manner beloved by former public schoolboys the world over. Luckily he did not see yesterday’s post in which I overestimated his age by some 30 years. It was a significant birthday and although I should not reveal the exact score, it is fair to say that he will not be needing to buy any more train or bus tickets ever again. So with the candle well burnt at both ends, we shall be trying to light the middle of it today. My invitation to lunch at my house has been received, accompanied by a string of instructions and an enormous shopping list, so joy of joys, I shall be at the supermarket this morning with my biggest credit card, trying to ensure that a score or so of thirsty revellers do not run out of wine, spare ribs and meatballs. As the Wingco is rumoured to be amongst those attending (if he arrives in time) the watchword will be quantity. I am eagerly awaiting a view of the attire today of The Cornish Tsunami, Matt Frost, who will no doubt be attending with his carer wife, the lovely Viv, to see what one should not be wearing this summer. He has form in this area, all of it bad. He thinks sartorial is the day before Sunday.
Chris France

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