The Rain continues

It is still raining, Chief Patissier remains sitting brooding in my studio, whilst Eldest remains brooding in her room, both as damp and dismal as the weather.

Madame le Couteau tried her best with Eldest’s hair but, since her experience is limited to cropping the hair of the noviciates at the convent, she rather lacks knowledge of the latest styles. Where once she had long wavy tresses Eldest now sports rather a short coife of tight curls, her locks having reacted to the wet weather by curling themselves up tightly against her scalp, giving her the look of a rather startled poodle. Eldest claims she is never ever going to leave her bedroom again.

Middle is sulking as he very sweetly took Eldest’s shorn hair to plait into a bracelet for her, which upon receiving she screamed hysterically and threw back at him in a rage. He now says he is going to use it to make a voodoo doll of his sister to stick pins in. Madame Grognonne has already given him candle stubs to melt done and he has borrowed all my best hat pins. Personally I am not sure this was wise as we may well need all the candle stubs we can muster should the power fail.

The only one who is showing any sign of jollity is youngest who is progressing rapidly with his boat building project. His vessel now has an anchor, constructed from a granite cross which, when questioned regarding its origins, he claimed to have found lying around in the grenier but which looks suspiciously similar to the one that has gone missing from village Calvary. He has also added a cabin in the form of the old chicken house, the chickens having been moved to the hayloft to save Madame Grognonne having to splash her way out to the far end of the vegetable garden to collect the eggs.

Jacques is disgruntled as I have refused to let him use the governess cart for the hull of youngest’s boat, Loic is disgruntled as youngest has used the spade attachment to his leg as a rudder without asking him first and Madame Grognonne is disgruntled as she claims the chickens are keeping her awake at night roosting on her bed frame.

I swear, should they continue like this, I shall be forced to steal youngest boat one night, whether it is finished or not, and sail away leaving them all here to drown in the sea of their own bad tempers.

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The painting is by French artist Henri Rousseau (1844-1910) and is called Tiger in a Tropical Storm(surprised!), well of course the tiger is surprised no self respecting cat regardless of its size would choose to plod about in the pouring rain voluntarily! I have included it as it reminds me of the feral cats hiding from the rain in our barns. He painted it in 1891, claiming that it was based on his extensive travels in Mexico. Of course, the nearest Henri Rousseau ever got to a tiger or a jungle was the zoological gardens in Paris, but one must not let the fact that the man was a liar detract from ones appreciation of his work.