Le Comte, steeplejack and duck rescuer

Spot le Comte

Le Comte, understand-
ably, doesn’t like heights. I don’t blame him for this at all. Why would anything without wings wish to be 50ft up in the air? However, every now and then, to prove how brave he is, he gets on the roof. He usually announces his intentions when I’m least expecting it.

‘Hun,’ he says, while I’m weeding the strawberry patch or cleaning out the goose pen, ‘I think I’ll get on the roof this afternoon.’

‘Right,’ I say, nervously. I am not completely comfortable with the roof scenario. It’s okay just sitting on the ridge, I’ve been up there and done that and there’s a very good view, but the moving about on bits that have a direct line to some very hard ground, I’m less happy with. Obviously I prefer him to do his roof explorations while I’m at home than when I’m not, incase he falls off, but generally, I would rather pay someone else to go up.

Anyway, there is no deterring le Comte when he has decided, so I pretend not to notice as he fetches the step ladder and climbs out through the velux window in the bathroom. From there he can clamber over the whole of the Chateau Coldspot roof and that of the attached Theatre Garden (aka Top Hall). It isn’t a very steep roof, but it is a long way up and sometimes he feels he has to stay up there an entire afternoon. I don’t take him tea and I don’t much look, so in all honesty I probably wouldn’t know whether he had fallen off or not. While he’s up there he sticks a few tiles together with mastic and throws down the odd clump of moss, thus saving us, so he claims, around £50,000 in roof-replacement bills. And that’s what makes it all worthwhile. In his opinion.

Duck - confused or grateful?

Climbing on the roof is not the only way that le Comte has been heroic this week. On Monday we were convinced that another duck had been captured and eaten. And not by us, I hasten to add, Princess 2 would never allow it. We could only find three ducks: the fat, white male with species issues (he is continually chasing the female geese); the ugly, black and grey bisexual male with the unfortunate nose; and a female which is currently sitting on a clutch of eggs behind a pallet. The second female was nowhere to be seen until le Comte, who was laying tiles in the Theatre Garden, heard a scratching. At first he thought the noise must be coming from the chimney – an owl once fell down this chimney and was found, quite by chance, fast asleep in the gite fireplace – but on inspection there was nothing in the room below. The scratching persisted and he realised there was a hollow wall behind the chimney. A quick check with a ladder and a torch revealed the duck some fifteen feet down the shaft. Luckily for the duck, the chimney wall is built of thin clay pot and after just a few minutes with the hammer and chisel it waddled out. I thought she looked confused but le Comte, now self-appointed duck-expert, says her expression was one of gratitude.

Education, education, education....

On a completely different note, I have just received a letter from the Lycée in la Grande Ville telling me that Princess 1 was not in her lesson from 8 – 9 on Monday morning. I actually knew this already. This lesson is English. In fact, extra English, and every now and then Princess 1 decides she doesn’t really need to go to it and stays in bed. As the person who gets up at 6.30am to take her to the bus, every now and then, I agree. Her command of the language seems to be generally pretty good. In fact, if you spoke to her you would probably think she was English, and that is because she is.

I don’t know why the Lycée needs to send a letter out advising that a student who is almost an adult (and many in her class already are), has missed a lesson. There are no parent-teacher evenings arranged for this age-group so parents are obviously no longer supposed to be actively involved in the education of their offspring. I can only assume then, that the Department of Education is somehow obliged to subsidise the Post Office as well as pay for the schools. That could explain why the education budget doesn’t seem to stretch to painting the Lycée buildings or funding sufficient teaching posts to enable sensible class sizes.

Prince spotted in deepest South West
Since his trip to London, I have learned that Prince Arsenal has once more ventured forth from the-paradise-that-is Lufbra and was last seen in the depths of Cornwall campaigning for the Liberal-Democrats. Apparently he is in charge of stake boards (?) and posters. Le Comte and I are concerned that he might fall prey to the sad fate of so many Lib-Dems; find himself enshrouded in an Arthurian mist and fade into obscurity never to be heard of again. As with all things political, only time will tell.