Wednesday 18 May 2022

Tractor Domination

 At last we have some guests here at Chauffour, after what seems like an eternity. Yes, it does add more cooking and cleaning but the company of three of Wendy's best pals far outweighs that. And it seems they brought the sunshine with them all the way from Scotland and with temperatures now up to 30 degrees, we won’t be long before we start praying for rain again!

As often happens when the house is full of women, I am saddled with the inevitable punishment of being forced to watch Eurovision. I have to say, a bigger pile of pretentious trash I have rarely witnessed but thankfully I fell asleep before the announcement of the predicable Ukrainian winners. Small recompense for having your country invaded, I suppose, but every cloud, etc. Apologies for the spoiler if you haven’t watched it yet and were saving the recording for a quiet evening but look on the bright side, I have saved you a few hours of humiliation.

On that subject, I am slightly concerned about my passion for tractors which I occasionally look at on the internet with complete innocence. Seemingly that is no longer allowed in the governmental circles in case MPs get sidetracked into obscene pornography, so it won’t be long before it is banned altogether. Who would a thought a Class Dominator was anything other than a combine harvester? Preposterous! Oh well, if I stop liking tractors, does that make me an Extractor Fan? Groan!

I mentioned last month that we now have a ride-on lawnmower. Well, in a bid to squeeze into a father-of-the-groom wedding suit later this month, I have made a massive effort to lose some weight by cutting out the wine and cheese which, up until this weekend, has been working fine. A couple of games of golf per week is contributing to the exercise but I do miss walking behind the mower for hours at a time to get my steps in. But here’s the interesting thing, my Fitbit watch has been fooled into thinking that sitting on the mowing machine constitutes exercise. Result! I kid you not, after I finish an hour’s worth of laziness in the seat I get rewarded with the information that I have just walked to Bordeaux and back. Who makes these things?

Anyone who has been here to Chauffour will tell you that we have a great view from our back terrace of a dilapidated ancient barn and windmill on the near horizon. Well, we did do until a few months ago when someone came along and knocked the barn down. For the next weeks our peace was shattered by heavy machinery digging and moving earth, then followed by a constant trail of concrete lorries. Lord knows what they are building up there but by the size of it methinks a large family will be moving in by the end of the summer to overlook the privacy of our swimming pool. Maybe they will fill the spare rooms with Ukrainian refugees. Ha, we could all have a sing-along to Go-SHUM!

Countdown is now on until we head off on our UK travels, with the first stop on British soil to get a new MOT on the camper. So, in true mechanical fashion, the damn thing has broken down. Well, not exactly broken but it is sending me a warning that something isn’t right and that in turn will fail its test. A light on the dashboard suggests my Air Bag isn’t working properly. She was fine last time I looked, washing the dishes in the kitchen!

And run...