Monday, 8 August 2011

The first of August has arrived and with it all the glory of the season that one may expect n Brittany. We have had fierce winds and torrential rain and the famers are fighting to get the grain in before it is ruined. With all this comes the mud, only yesterday poor Loic had to be dug from the pottager when his wooden leg sunk in the potato patch, I am forever warning him of the foolhardiness of venturing out into the potager wearing his dibber attachement on his leg when the ground is soft. If he goes too near the edge of the pond we may have to launch the boat to retrieve him. It is al very vexacious.


The boys friend has had to return home unexptedly to his parents after an unfortunate incident involving his slipping from the top of the roof whilst attempting to hoist a pair of madame Grognonnes capacious under garments on to the cockeral weather vain as part of some boyish prank, luckily none of the slates were broken but the boy will ,I fear , forever walk with a slight limp.


Due to the inclement weather no one has been eager to remount the cock and disengage Madame Grognonnes undergarments, thus in the high wind they wave thier voluminous legs above the turret in all thier glory like some salop advertsing her wares. It is far from decorous ,neither is it an attractive edition to the ediface however, my one concillation is that should the village cleryman ever fully recover full control of his bowels after having participated of our rough cider on his last visit ,Madame Grongonnes pantaloons festonned as they are with lace and emblazoned with the Brton Motto Cassis tutissima virtus ( virtue is the safest helmet) will be sufficient to enourage him to beat a hasty retreat.


There is always the risk that due to their vluminous proportions they may become over inflated by the strong winds and rip the cock right off the roof. The cock was placed thier by the grandfather of Chief Pattiseuir, it is a proud of the symbol of the Loufoque family thus to have it ripped from its rightful place by a pair of oversized knickers would indeed be most unfortunate.


The Loufoques are inordinately proud of thier cock although heaven only knows why, it is, compared to others I have seen ,a puny specimen and seems to require constant attention in order to keep it erect and in its proper place. Over the years its surface has become pitted and poor loic is forever up there giving it a thorough rub down and polish in order to satisfy the chief Pattiseur. Of Late it has indeed been sadly neglected. One may onlyhope that the wretched thing will meet its end at the hand of madame Grognonnes bloomers and we can continue to live in peace and harrmony without its rather unsightly presence looming above us.

3 comments:

Fennie said...

I hesitate to suggest but it seems to me that should the leg of Loic ever become seriously entombed in the pottager (and he then being, as a result, without other useful employment until such time as the ground dries out again, you might set him to making and flying a kite, for which I sense he has all the skills one needs and the weather conditions - you do indeed mention high winds - seem singularly appropriate to the enterprise I have in mind, which is to attach fish hooks to the kite on wires and then to fly it over and above the shrouded weather vane until such time as the fish hooks were caught fast at which time the offending nether garments could be winched slowly downwards, whether whole or in shreds need not, I feel bother us at this juncture (though it would be a kindness to check for residual barbs were it proposed that the knickers be used again lest the servant's fundament be be incommoded and so in danger of perhaps upsetting a steaming soup tureen or other vessel that she might otherwise be carring); the necessary purchase for hauling the garments earthwards being afforded by the aforesaid anchorage of Loic's limbs in the mud of the pottager. Do tell me how you get on.

Friko said...

All members of the Loufoque family, their retainers and various appendages appear to be seriously incommoding village life.

Might there be need for curtailment of their activities?
I fear for the health and sanity of the villagers should the Loufoques be given free rein to pursue their nefarious doings.

I am with the clergyman, bloomers on the weather cock are not what one would expect to see in respectable Breton villages. Off with them, I say!

Norma Murray said...

I say, Gosh!What goings on!