Saturday, March 7, 2009
Day 2 of the Mistral. Imagine standing on the top of Beachy Head during a gale, that is what it feels like when the Mistral is blowing, only its all around you and there's no getting away from it. It flattens the grasses in the field, and even in our courtyard, which has three storey high walls, it knocks over flower pots, tears the washing off the line and takes off with whatever isn't tied down (like the artists tent one summer, which he had put up as a temporary studio).
Anyway, as this is bicentenary of Charles Darwin's birth, and there's quite a lot of things Darwin going on, I thought I'd add my little bit. This morning I got up to find a sock which had had the entire foot bit eaten away, on the kitchen table. The Artist told me he had put it there as evidence and it didn't take Sherlock Holmes to work out who the culprit was. All fingers pointed to Molly. For as long as we have had her she has had a fetish for the Artists socks. "Why does she always eat mine?" He asked. I pointed out that it probably had to do with the fact that he has smelly feet and I don't. His daughter too, has the most stinky feet, even at the tender age of 12. "It's a gene thing," I said. "Some people have smelly feet, some people don't, like halitosis". I then wondered aloud whether smelly feet were a throw back to when we walked on four legs and our feet gave off an odour so that other people, or ape people, or whatever we were then, could track each other, for mating purposes or to keep tabs on one another. I then surmised that because I don't have smelly feet, I must be further evolved than the Artist. "Put that in your blog then," the artist said. So I have.
Speaking of Van Gogh (previous blog) I have just seen my first Iris of the year. They just grow randomly by the side of the road. Also the almond blossoms are beginning to bloom in the orchards.