Written by Gordon Aspey
25 April 2020
The Novo Virus has confined me to staying indoors for my own safety. I’m feeling like a caged canary – but have decided to devote my time to rekindling adventures from the past.
My daughter, with her husband and four gorgeous children emigrated to France twenty years ago. She phoned me on a wet and miserable Monday morning.
‘Dad, How d’yer fancy looking after a friends holiday villa, whilst they visit relatives in America? They will be away for six weeks. Well, our cases were nearly packed before I replaced the Phone.
Kaz lived in the Middle Pyrenees in suburban France scarcely 3 kilometers away. The villa was quite a posh place catering for holidaymakers. We were settling in nicely, each morning after breakfast we’d continue our investigative walks into the countryside. About midday we had our daily dip in the luxurious swimming pool after the robot had finished its ingenious cleaning operation for the afternoon.
’Isn’t technology marvelous?’ This would be followed by a short spell of sunbathing and our midday lunch.
Lunch was usually a fresh salad swilled down with a nice bottle of red under the open Gazebo. We had wonderful views of acres and acres of sunflowers sheaved in emerald green, heads tilted towards the sun. The rolling hills without a rooftop in site, the stillness and incredible silence were a joy. Although it was possible with concentration to hear the background symphony of sound from buzzing insects, the chatter of small birds, and the rustle of sweet corn swaying in the light breeze.
This was sheer bliss, retirement at its very best. Of course, as anyone with the facial ravages of time will confirm, these feelings are often short lived. They come and go with the swiftness of a shooting star and are usually the precursor for some unpleasant or catastrophic disaster. Bliss is not a natural state for us mortals. We are more accustomed to misery, conflict, death and destruction. Even so, we search for this scarce commodity like a TV chef scouting for truffles.
The God of mayhem busted my bubble of bliss as I lay on the hammock by the swimming pool. I was in a dreamy relaxed state with one leg dangling over the side gently swinging back and forth.
I was kitted out with Panama hat, sun glasses and swimming trunks – a tad on the tight side. I was gorging on a large golden plum freshly picked from the owner’s orchard. The juices were oozing over my lower lip and dripping onto my distended middle. I felt like King Henry having a bit of gluttony. This is the life I thought as I flipped the plum stone nonchalantly over my shoulder. I made to devour the remainder when I heard a loud buzzing and a large stripey looking insect with the proportions of a scaled down tiger moth confronted me.
His body language was ominous; he wanted the other half of my plum. He circled around me in a menacing manner but I felt the odds were stacked in my favor, after all he was only half the size of my middle toe; I decided to stand my ground. The bulldog spirit swelled up within me.
‘GERRR-OFF!’ I snorted, smacking the air with my free hand.
He came at me in a high speed-zinging dive and skidded off the tip of my nose.
‘Jesus!’ All thoughts of valor vanished as I jettisoned the remainder of the plum and sprinted towards the house and safety.
‘What’s up?’ Enquired Babs, her brow suitably furrowed with concern as I leant against the gas cooker gasping for breath.
‘What’s up?. I’ve just b-b-been mugged by a bloody great wasp!’
‘We’ve got a few more problems here’ groaned Babs. ‘The hot water system has given up, broadband is kaput and I’ve just broken that nice vase in the hall.’
‘Not that Chinese ming looking thing? I reckon that’s an expensive bit of kit, probably a family heirloom how the hell did you do that?’
‘Well, it was one of those big wasps; I took a swipe at him and missed.’
‘That’s going to be awkward, so what are you going to do?
You know what really annoys me about these yellow stripy things is their greed. Not twenty yards from my perch on the hammock he had the whole bloody orchard at his disposal. There were apples, peaches, plums, figs quinces and fruit I’d never seen before. But -oh-no! He wanted my half plum as well. These greedy buggers are like those asset stripping financiers plundering small businesses with no regard to the mess left behind.
‘I could say the cat did it’ said Babs gathering up the remaining pieces. ‘I could say he was chasing a butterfly a moth or something.’
‘That’s really dishonest Babs how could you! Yeah-you might get away with that, I’ve seen him chasing butterflies Yeah! Tell her that. Cats can’t argue anyway,’