September mumbles in the mountain
3 With Jenny Rhodes 3
Saturday 4th September
I thought I would just get it out of the way as it will be being said very soon on the TV. Adverts for children’s toys will be blocking our screens for the next four months and the Coca Cola adverts will be announcing that the “Holidays are coming” In the meantime I will enjoy Autumn and the glorious weather we are having at the moment.
We had a ground frost a couple of mornings ago which belted that bolt of dread though my bones [and the thought of….dare I say it….WINTER] but it soon vanished in the early morning rays of sun. The farmers are out cutting hay and I have to comment that there appears to be many more bales out in the fields this year. Maybe the grass grew well or they have just felt they need more grass. I love these lovely round bales that are dotted around the place.
When I was a child and going up into my teens, my parents and I would go up into the Pennines to camp at a farm owned by a friend. We would work from sunrise to sunset helping him to bring in the hay. And what hard work it was. Lifting and stacking bales wrapped in hairy cord that cut into your fingers, and heaving the big block bales into piles that would make it easier for John to come along with the trailer and collect them. It’s funny but I always remember the days being hot and sunny with a wonderful scent of the freshly cut hay. Hmmm lovely. I’m also sure the bees were much louder in those days. Or does my memory play tricks? Surely not at my age.
Memories have been bounding around this week as our friends from Birmingham have been down for a few days. I have known Roger since before I was born, if you know what I mean. My Mum and his Mum knew each other before we were both born. My Mum lived in Northumberland during the war and Aunty Ada lived in Birmingham. Roger’s Dad was stationed in Northumberland before being sent off to Europe and had asked my Mum to visit his wife as she was on her own. Fortunately they hit it off straight away and would sit listening to the planes going over and paint each other’s toe nails. What an ingenious way to spend the war. Although we no longer have my Mum, Aunty Ada is still going strong and is now in her 90’s. So I have driven poor Mike crazy , sitting reminiscing with Roger about our childhoods and all the vile and ingenious things we got up to.
I was devastated to find out that our friendship only thrived as it did because I had a pedal car and he only had a trike. He was always pinching it and was bigger than me …so no contest.
How shallow can a person get?
By gum it was a lovely week.
Back to a bit of info……tomorrow 5th September is a Medieval Fete in Formigueres apparently serving “white soup” Errrr not the best colour for soup I feel but I have promised to go and try it. I was also told that from 2pm on the 4th September they will be roasting a calf. Now I’m not a veggie or a vegan but I do have a problem with the idea of a calf on a spit. Pigs on a spit….OK at a push but a calf just makes my feel a bit emotional. They have such lovely faces and I just can’t stand the thought of him having such a short life only to end up skewered on a pole for people to eat. And before anyone asks …no I don’t eat veal either.
Our eldest daughter Emma comes to stay next week so we are looking forward to that and no doubt we’ll be visiting Andorra for the shopping. And we will definitely be visiting La Seu d’Urgel for their Saturday morning market, which is always well worth the drive.
So I will love you and leave you to enjoy September’s golden glow.
3 Sunday 5th September 3
We have just been down to Formigueres to attend the Medieval Mete. How hard have they worked? The streets were strewn with straw and every man and his dog had a costume of some sort or other. Horses were paraded through the streets and the “ancient” King of Marjorque made a speech interspersed with much coughing and creaking. Poor old soul.
Our friend Daniel [usually an estate agent] was a Knight but had refused to wear his hat and slunk off to the café to have a coffee with us, saying no way was he wearing anything on his head. After all he had made the white soup which has taken him much of the previous evening. Gosh it’s hard work being a knight and a cook.
There were fire twirling Saracens dressed in black and a display of falconry which didn’t really take flight as the owl looked as though he had had enough for the day and refused to fly.
Martin from the Gite d’etape was dressed in a rather grand outfit of yellows and golds and only spoilt the effect by wearing his shorts underneath. Apparently last year he didn’t wear them and was told off. By whom I’m not certain.
It was all good fun and enjoyed by everyone who attended. Even the weather was fantastic so what more can you ask.