Whimper

There’s little good that can be said about the weather. The forecast keeps postponing summer, now not due for a week. A couple of nights ago a storm went on for a couple of hours with continuous thunder and lightning. The dogs did their usual cower/shiver/whimper and then got bored, went back to sleep and haven’t batted an eyelid at thunder since. Curiously it’s today when it hasn’t rained for 18 hours that the river at the bottom of the hill has burst its banks. Yesterday I coincided with the chief pompier at a Brit-owned mill on the river and translated while he issued a flood warning. The Brit knew it all and was dismissive but he moved his vehicles and today the road to his property is inundated.

M. Chateau has returned to Orleans for the time being to keep his business ticking over. His missus has taken his place and is working in the building by herself, save for the blokes doing the roof. She is invited here this evening for supper, as it must be both lonely and a bit spooky to be living there alone. As far as I know the electricity supply is still dedicated to producing hot water rather than light.

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