Skip to main content

French rebels

Someone has just asked me if I can play in a tennis tournament on the 25 May.  I just about know what is happening on the 25th March, April is still in the future and May is another lifetime. 

Today I did the re-organised walk from yesterday.  Everybody had an opinion on the direction we should be going but I managed to keep them on course until the last half hour.  'Turn left', I said authoritatively.  Four turned right, five went straight on and the rest looked bewildered.  No-one turned left.  The majority won.  I shouted that it was muddy down there (having squelched my way through it yesterday) and that we must turn left.  No wonder Napoleon lost.  They ignored me.

It is amazing that members of a walking group turn up wearing trainers, casual shoes and even 'proper shoes'.  They all ploughed on and soon came up against wet and mud.  Was this a 'I told you so moment?'  No.  I listened to their ohs! and ahs! and waited until they all reached dry land.  'You should have turned left.'  I said.  One weak English voice piped up, 'I just followed everyone else.'
BUT THE GAME IS CALLED 'FOLLOW THE LEADER.' I shouted inwardly.

I am not mentioning Brexit until there is a decision made about something, anything.  If it had been the French they would have had a rebellion, sorted it out and gone on as though nothing had happened.  I like French rebels except when I am trying to lead them on a walk!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I'm Free

 After being incarcerated in my son's house waiting for the results of the day 2 test I was finally allowed out today.  I went to Chichester and was saddened by the number of familiar shops that have disappeared from the town centre.  Bognor is the same.  You wouldn't die of thirst in either town though as the number of cafes has increased.  Both town centres were busy making it difficult to keep a safe distance from others but many people were wearing masks in the street. I was pulled over by Customs in Caen.  As I opened the trunk of the car one of the officers asked me if I was carrying goods.  'Yes,' I replied, ' French Champagne and French wine'  They nodded approvingly and waved me away. During my 3 days in the house, I have cleaned, filed all their paperwork, mended the shower, cooked dinner and tried watching television, the latter being totally uninspiring.  The news consists of covid, travel restrictions, forbidden Christmas parties...

D day lasts 3 days

 This morning, with my head full of things I still have to do, I got on the tram and forgot to scan my ticket.  The inspector got on 2 stops later and said I had to pay 45€ for this lapse.  Why can't I scan it now?  a reasonable question in my opinion, was met with scorn, so I  paid up.  On the tram back from the hospital there she was again and checked my ticket with glee.  While she was doing that a young man got on, sat down  and did not show any sign of even having a ticket, let alone scanning one.   The inspector passed him by without a second glance.   Today is the last day for packing and organising.  Tomorrow the removal company will arrive at 6am to take it all away and put it in storage.  Tomorrow night I will sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor and Thursday I go to the hospital to be nuked for the last time.  The sleeping bag is the one that saved me from hypothermia when a friend and I were lost for ...