The dispute with the grandson over the hedge is ongoing. He says he wants to build a 2-metre concrete wall round his patch and put in a garden. At least I think that’s what he wants to do. It would be most unlikely to ever happen and would be barking mad even if it did, since the land there is on a 45° slope which means that any privacy would be impossible, quite apart from it being sheltered by woods on one side and our mighty hedge on the other. He could alternatively continue building his garage – 8 years in the making so far – or even start on the house for which he has planning permission. But once an idea settles in his mind it is fixed. I could invoke the majesty of the law to sort it out but that would cost money, initially mine and then his, and I’ve grown to become rather sorry for him. He is actively unpleasant but knows no other way to behave. Life is a continual, befuddling battle in which everyone is against him and he hasn’t the capacity to understand that his difficulties are self-inflicted.
Cato has put out his back again. I was warned this was likely to happen and I carry him around much of the time. I expect it’ll sort itself out and his enthusiasm for food is undiminished. If that fades I’ll know he is in real trouble.
I fielded an old lady in the mairie complaining that the little cross that marked the tiny grave of her niece in the cemetery had disappeared. No one knew why or when but it’ll be sorted. She showed me a photo of the 6-month infant – a blue baby – in its coffin and we mourned together for a bit.

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