Ducks off

A glorious late summer day in Valbonne was marred by having to tidy the house after Sprog 1 had told us he had left it spotless. If that was the case then I want to know who dumped all that detritus on the living room floor, who filled up all the bins with rubbish, who was cruel enough to fill up the recycling bins with empty bottles of my beer? I expect it is the same individual who failed to water the flowers as directed, failed to clean the house up before he left, failed to walk the dogs as instructed, failed to put chlorine in the pool and is now sunning himself on Sweden. The only thing that was cleaned out diligently was my drinks fridge. Boy, a rude awakening beckons, and I know you read this…

Yesterday was notable for cleaning and scrubbing, well obviously not I, a renowned author, at least in my own mind.  No that was left to That Nice Lady Decorator, who is gradually emerging from her illness. My job was hoovering, and even if I say it myself, mighty fine hoovering at that. Yes, some earrings were sucked up and yes the rolling dice are nicely snuggled down in the depths of the Hoover bag, but I think the expression is “a clean sweep” and it is so precise don’t you think?

The reason for such frenetic activity was the impending arrival of Nigel Medina Palms Rowley (who tells me he is no longer mad, merely mildly eccentric – only time will tell, actually, no I just don’t believe it) and his serenely beautiful wife the luscious Leslie, together with amusingly dour and taciturn northerner Ben Dobson, and his voluptuous and gorgeous wife Mary. Ben tells me he is no longer as taciturn as he was, but again, I don’t believe him, it is endemic in anyone born north of Coventry.

He is however, the most generous of souls, and his job at Adidas where he has responsibility for rugby and cricket (tell me that is not a dream job?) ensures that I shall always be polite and respectful when he is in residence. He was the reason that I was able to be at Lords for two days, one of them in the corporate box, and there is no doubt in my mind that my presence contributed hugely to the eventual outcome of the match. I do so love it when England thrashes Australia.

It was vital therefore, that as my guest, I should introduce him and his spouse to the delights of Valbonne Square. I think the overall objective was achieved, before we adjourned to the pav for a nightcap, and some cheese.

A “Duck With A Dick” a present from Mr Clipboard

Today will be considerably more relaxed. A chill out pool day, where I shall be able to get out my new toy, pictured today, a kind and tasteful gift from Mr Clipboard, is on the agenda, but in the south of France one can never look too far ahead. There is always the propensity for a swivel in fortune, a change in the wind, an impromptu scenario, ready to blow one off course, and frankly that is just the way I like it,

Whilst in Valbonne we did happen across Currencies Direct client the Master Mariner Mundell, and did our best to persuade him that he needed to take us all out on his yacht to St Tropez on Friday, and as I write, I believe that such a possibility exists. I am just ready now for a stupid lunch at Tahiti beach. It will sort the men from the boys.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News