Legends from our own lunchtimes

Monday, August 03, 2015

Red sky at night - Saturday 25th July -
Toul


I thought I’d use a photo from yesterday, to illustrate certain truths in old tales.  What a delight the red sky was, yet had I taken the photo from exactly the other direction it may well have depicted lesser delights, the result no doubt of a red sky in the morning had we been awake to see it.   

Behind us, the half-dozen or so cars that stay in the port for summer were buried under the tops of several huge chestnut trees, and one of them was actually doing a fair impression of having a tree growing out of its windscreen, while at the same time its owner’s insurers on the other end of the emergency hotline in the UK, were denying liability as clearly the damage had occurred “on the continent”.  

But that was yesterday, and today brought some welcome drizzle, some unwelcome wind and a general feeling of “let’s go tomorrow”.   With all apparently in ship shape in Mr Perkin’s domain, and the trees ashore piled into a bonfire mound, it seemed that the only thing left to fix was the internet.  Having tried everything we could think of without success, the rest of the day was spent trying to figure out how to belt it with a hammer.
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