Sunday

Top Top from way up top

Courtesy of Dive Bomber Beet and his new Phantom aerial drone quadcopter with on board camera. Google Earth eat your heart out.


This is a seriously cool piece of kit. We're contemplating all the mischief we can get up to. Thank god it's in the hands of someone responsible(!) Run for cover if you see it hovering over your house. Nude sunbathing may be a thing of the past. 


Friday

Rooms emerge

It's now the end of June. Progress has been slow, but internal walls are in place. The plaquistes erected metal drywall studs. Wiring and plumbing has been pulled through them.


 
The plaquistes work was labour-intensive. The drywall had to be cut to fit acute angles around the beams and schlepped up ladders as high as 5 metres. When we discovered our ceilings would be this tall, Henny and I made the decision not to take the internal walls of the bathroom and the dressing area with them. These walls stop at about 2m70 so you can see the skylight and the beams unbroken by walls. The jointers have just finished an intensive week. Now the owner's suite (as dubbed by our friend Colleen) looks like this.



The studio has moved on too. The blue plasterboard is acoustic. It won't be soundproof, but I hope it helps contain my practicing. I can hardly believe this used to be the garage.



Saturday

Petunia Share

Greg over-shopped for his window boxes this year.  He asked if we'd like to take some spare petunias off his hands, but they needed planting that very day. No problem. Call us anytime you're over-flowered. This picture hardly does them justice. Thanks GT.


Entourage

La fête de la Musique was inaugurated in France on 21st June 1982. Now each midsummer night, there are concerts and musical events everywhere, for all tastes, dancing in the streets, free for all. Our choir was singing the magnificent Brahms Requiem at Domaine d'O in Montpellier, a park with an outdoor amphitheatre set in wooded grounds with plenty of opportunity for al fresco dining. My lovely gang of 18 came with hampers a-burstin'. La grande bouffe was laid out over three picnic tables. Jet-lagged family members had arrived earlier in the day from Vancouver and Brisbane. They were scooped up from various planes and trains and whisked straight to Domaine d'O before they knew what hit them. Canada, Australia, Sweden, Britain, the Netherlands, all represented.



When the choir walked on stage, my lot chanted in a manner more befitting Wembley: Vonny, Vonny. We're not supposed to acknowledge such greetings, but the corners of my mouth were well-turned up. If I'd looked at them, I would have lost it. Then I heard Beetle trying to get my attention at the top of his lungs, "We're up here!" Honestly, they're louts, but I love them.


We had perfect weather -- fairly rare this season thus far -- to linger on after the concert, lazing on picnic blankets in the olive grove. What a lucky girl to have such great pals. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you coming to our concerts. I'm the envy of all my peers, the only alto with an entourage.




Monday

The Blues

Look away now if you don't want to see loads of blue hounds. You've been warned.

Gary and I went on a field trip to Limoux to visit the 45th annual competition for Bleu de Gascogne dogs. You're familiar with 101 Dalmations? This was 776 Lily Blues. The six variations of Bleus were all represented.

You have the Grand Bleus, the originals. Allegedly the Comte de Foix hunted boar, wolves and bears with a beautiful pack of these hounds in the 14th century. They're called Grand not for their size, but for the size of game they were bred to hunt. Having said that, the Grands are très grand indeed and can weigh over 50 kgs.



There are also Petit Bleus which were bred to hunt smaller game. They have the same distinctive markings but come in a smaller size, about the same as a labrador.


Another variation is the Basset Bleu. Prize-winning moustache on the judge.



There are two white variations. Not our faves so we won't dwell on them.


Because we need to move on to our Bleu of choice, the Griffons! They have some element of wire hair. Some are shaggy, others have smooth and feathery hair in combination, which is what I love about Lily Blue.


Lily likeness...

All the Bleu varieties are known for their deep, sonorous voices. This was rather impressive en masse. Our choir could use some basses, but I'm guessing Bleus don't sight read. Even Lily, for a smallish dog, has a bark of Baskervillian timbre. I was glad there weren't any puppies at the show. This is the youngest little lady we saw. We were impressed by how friendly and laid back the hounds were.

It was a real glimpse into an aspect of rural French life we don't know very much about. I don't need to go again, but it was fascinating to see all the characters, canine and human.



Saturday

Confessions of a Dog Mother

A little snapshot of our life yesterday. There were 10 builders on site at different times (Progress. Hooray!)  In addition, our friend Bernard dropped by. It was towards the end of the day. The various trades were packing up. I was showing Bernard the work in the addition when Henny came to ask where the dog was. Shit. It was clear Lily had slipped out with one of the builders (why didn't they warn me??) 

No sign of her. AT LARGE. AWOL. We whistled and called. Henny got in the car to look for her. Bernard and I walked the neighbourhood, then he too got in his car to search. I stayed in front of the house on look out. A stray dog passed by, then passed again 10 minutes later. I mentally told him to find Lily, who loves other dogs. Then, will you believe, I looked down our lane and saw Lily Blue trotting home, something big and pale in her mouth, tail wagging, looking rather proud. She'd taken a year off Henny's and my lives from stress, yet on top of that, was hoping to play with the other dog. I got her inside the gate. Called off the search parties. Our hearts still pounding, we were all so relieved she was safe. Then Bernard said, you better see what she's got, I don't think it's a bone after all. I wrestled her trophy away from her. Turned out to be an enormous lump of cheese. Like at least half a kilo. The crowning blow, of course, it made her spectacularly ill. The more comfortable she becomes, the more spirited. She's a little minx.


The Cheese Monkey


Portrait by Auntie Fen
New nickname provided by Uncle Beet

Windows!

The windows in the new bedroom are in. Three metres wide. The 3 panels in the centre are stationary, the two on the ends open. They're made of powder-coated steel by a Belgian metal worker and his wife who relocated to the area about 10 years ago.


Here's the look from outside. You'll notice the workshop to the right lingers far behind other construction. This was a later add-on which required a new permission. Even though the inspector was here 4 months ago and gave it the go ahead, the paperwork went astray. It was filed again and should be with us anytime, says Kevin.


Back to windows. Here's the studio from the garden. The windows are the exact same as in the bedroom. It's a wonderful room. Henny can't wait to get in! And I'm hoping occasionally to be allowed in.