B. & B. meet V.

Today was a lie-in morning, relatively speaking, for the BH. In other words, it was a day when for once she didn't get up at the crack of dawn to head for her school. The pleasure was short-lived, however, as we suddenly remembered that we had to unlock the metal gate to the impasse to let the builders in for eight o'clock.

I heaved my way into my pantacourts, pulled on a tee-shirt, strapped on my sandals and headed down the stairs. There they were, all the builders, waiting patiently to be let in. One of them had, it has to be admitted, scaled the gate and was on the point of doing some builderly breaking and entering...

It was time for the formal good morning handshake session. I put out my hand. But instead of shaking it, Monsieur V., our mason, grabbed it and hauled me out into the street. "Venez voir, venez voir".

He dragged me round to the Archives Communales, pointed at the new , faecal-hued stucco being applied and said: "Ils me prennent pour un con, quoi, ça va barder".*

Apparently, the town authorities are having applied to their building the very stucco refused to Monsieur V.. I said how did he know it was the same product. He pointed to the pile of sacks containing the offending product. The showdown with Madame B. and Monsieur B. (different surnames), the two town officials who had refused him his first choice, was scheduled for eight thirty this morning. Will keep you informed.

* Who the f**k do they take me for, I'm going to have their guts for garters