The Olympic cycling road races took place at the weekend - Evenepoel was a worthy winner of the men's race, and the women's race past the same splendid Paris lanscape was a really tight affair where once again favourites were a bit too busy looking at one another and the American Kristen Faulkner simply rode away from them to win nicely. Elsewhere we learn more of the strange arts of hammer throwing and ping pong, and the always disappointing flops of the high jump, but celebrated the excellent win of Novak Djokovic, the last survivor of the old guard against the inevitable rise of the new generation in tennis - a first Thinese women champion and the impressive Alcaraz as the men's runner-up. In the Olympics we have enjoyed some good moments including a world record pole vault and an uexcpected Botswanan spring victory - the end of the track eveents this weekend will be followed by the Women's cycle Tour - we still have not worked out how to follow the Vuelta on tv.
Meanwhile in the real world I read: 'now should be the 'silly season', that goofy time of year when the news is usually filled with trivial stories because everyone's on vacation and there's not much serious stuff happening. But this year's silly season is insisting on being taken seriously, with a global market crash and the Middle East on the brink of war. In the UK, it's even grimmer, as racist attacks against asylum-seeker facilities have spread across cities, fuelled by online disinformation. "The worst wave of far-right violence in the UK post-war," wrote anti-extremism organisation HOPE not to hate.' We find ourselves in a quiet if hot corner of the south of France, but the turmoil is never far away.
This blog began years ago with bulletins on my health, starting with a knee replacement which seems to be holding up. The random pains I now have include arthritis (a bit in the othe rknee but I'll not have a further operation) tendinitis (which also bugs Mary at times) in one shoulder, muscular aches which the French oddly call courbature, otherwise raideur, and a bit of gout in foot joints, evident to my doctor who spots uric acid in the blood tests and counsels mildly against drinking too much. All this is more or less tolerable wiht regular paracetamol plus some codeine and occasional ibuprofen which has to be prescribed here but is freely available over pharmacy counters in the UK so brought by visitors when needed. All in all, with my daily exercise bike I cope well enough. I am often reminded of the Sackler scandal and the widespread dependence on opoids
As I write, I have just been to the dermatologist. A small spot on the top of one ear turned out to be pre-cancerous and is now being analysed - for the moment I have a dressing and stitches, and much less discomfort - I'll be able to sleep facing either way now. Dermato appointments here are like hen's teeth, and I had to write a letter in my best French to get an appointment before November, but it is done. Lab results in September when the holidays are over. Of course sod's law says that medical difficulties usually happen at weekends or during the summer holidays.
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| in Marc & Flo's garden in Congénies |
Summer heat here. We keep daily temperature records, and are surprised to find that this year has been hotter than the last 2. It has also been humid - here we have a seesaw between drier, (slightly) cooler northerly winds - Mistral and Tramontane - and the entrées maritimes, southerly winds usually laden with moisture and sometimes with Sahara sand! Humidity obviously make it feel even more hotter, and our daytime maxima have been in the mid-30s since the middle of July while recent night temps have not been below 20° Our house is relatively cool and we stay indoors a lot. But the fires in the countryside have increased again, and sadly they are often caused by cigarette ends thrown from car windows
We have come to like the French postal services. Deliveries to the gate and its post box, not to the door, which avoids the dog bites post people in the UK suffer (not that we have biting dogs...). But as in the UK (years ago someone found sacks of undelivered letters to Jim'll Fixit in a bin in Hampstead, grim memories of J Savile but lots of disappointed kids hoping for replies to their dreams) a recent story tells of a French postman who took 13,000 letters home at the end of his shifts. The accused is set to appear in court in Vienne in January 2025, after the ‘mountain’ of undelivered post was discovered in his garage. The man now faces a fine of up to €45,000, and three years in jail.the accused had previously been a delivery driver for the Services-Courrier-Colis (parcel delivery) branch in the town of Bourgoin-Jallieu, Ironically this crime toook place not far from the Palais Idéal du Facteur Cheval, a 19th century postman who buuilt a fantastic palace from stones he collected on his rounds - it is one of our favourite places to visit, in the north of the Drôme département.
As previously noted, our dear dog Edmond is nearing the end of his long life - 15 now, which is good going for a small dog. He has been anaesthetised previously for removal of fluid because of oedoema caused umtimately by a weakening heart, but that makes further interventions unadvisable and we keep him cheerful with titbits fed by hand - we are in constant touch with the escellent vets here. The hot weather certainly does not help. But he finds cool spots on the front doorstep and still seems alert when he is not sleeping! As long as he is in good spirits and will eat something we shall continue to enjoy his company.
The 2 tortoises however are inn good health and eating lots of lettuce! Mary says the older one senses her arrival by vibrations in the ground and races over to get his latest meal!
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| just out of hibernation (a year or two ago) |
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