Saturday, 21 August 2010

Poney, cat, hammock and me

Poney, cat, hammock and me

Poney's field seems so parched. Her ruminant 'ovis aries' friends and she have eaten all the fruit and leaves that were accessible and now eye the plum and poplar trees on our side of the fence. I feed the French poney prunes that were plums but two days ago, for in this heat they have shrivelled to quite an edible state having fallen on the lawn. Cat comes to the wired fence and sniffs at poney as she bends her head to greet cat but cat pulls back even though the fence is in between. Cat is sensible. Friends cannot always be trusted

Poney is intrigued as I attempt to lay in the hammock under a cloudless sky as stars slowly make their appearance at 10 o'clock at night. She stamps her hooves on the ground and whinnies to gain my further attention but lulled by the rocking of the hammock I push my foot against the floor to rock some more. I close my eyes as the cat pummels amd whiggles and snuggles up to me. Opening my eyes I see a falling star and wish quickly a wish. Poney still watches cat and me in communion. A poney cannot snuggle up in a hammock with a human being. I would rather have a cat than a poney!

Songs of crickets fill the air and whilst I sing a lullaby I am thinking that it would be nice to be here throughout the night. However, I realise the warm air has a chill about it and think too soon thank goodness those dogs are not baying. An owl is heard: tu toooooooooo repeatedly. Separately a strange sound never heard before flies across the night unidentified. Then those wretched killing dogs start up. Other dogs of neighbours have also been barking from time to time but nothing like these kennel hounds.

Cat is alert and disappears to investigate some 'thing' unheard by me and then returns all warmth and furry friend that she is.

I want to stay but these story words are in my head. I think of fetching the sleeping bag… the sleeping sack ... and staying there all night under the stars. Oh, lazy mortal am I. Oh the creature comforts that I seek.

It was like this about the same time last year…a hot evening brought about by stunning daytime sunshine. Oh, how I love it… and need it… to bring warmth to my soul. Earlier in the evening I had managed to rescue plums fallen on the ground all at once, (some had been boiling on the ground in the sunshine), gather wallflower seeds, weed part of the gravel drive, iron linen from the line, sit and eat a simple meal of haricot verts in tomato sauce with cheese on top, boiled eggs in mayonnaise and fried wholemeal bread with mint leaves chopped and sprinkled on top, followed by Reine Claude plums gifted by a neighbour.

I love August in France.

I love the poney, the hammock, the cat and just sometimes like this evening I feel positive about 'me' but nearly not often enough! I have loved being alive today.


It stormed with lightning and thunder and at one point as the storm was immediately overhead the lightning and thunder almost simultaneous, I quickly sat upright as adrenaline kicked in. I am not afraid of storms but the fierce loud bang and bright clap of light makes one jump!

Good job I was not in the hammock!


Carolyn said...

There's nothing like summer! I feel the same way you do--the long, warm days make me so happy. I try to stock up that feeling of wellbeing for winter, but it doesn't work that way! Winter is hard--but I'm working on how to get through winter with enjoyment. I welcome suggestions!

SweetpeainFrance said...

I understand from my French neighbour who is well-motivated that she has Winter projects. For example, I know that she makes clothes in the cold months! She has donkeys and a large vegetable and flower garden to tend as well as a Border Collie to walk (between half and hour and two hours every day) She is a walker and is out in front ahead of all others on every community randonnee. We fail to keep up with her.

Who can enjoy the dark, bleak, weatherworn, hibernatory days of winter? I think even the Finns have a high ratio of depressive characteristics!

I think the only suggestion I have found for surviving the dreaded dark, short days of Central France is to wake with the light and go to bed not long after the dark has descended! ... and although I am poor in action with my ideas, it is to go out every day and allow the light, sunlight if possible, to enter the eyes, feel the weather on the skin and ensure there is a warm treat, like tea and scones and a log fire burning on one's return to home.

A small project of enjoyment or learning is also a MUST. Can you knit or crochet or read or play music or make craftwork of any kind especially if possible with friends?

I will dwell more on this. My ideal is to escape, head South, to the sunshine and warmth!