The Neighbours

The Neighbours

It really is a wonder we get any work done at all.  The people who live in the nearest hamlet wave every time they drive past, as do the local farmers on tractors and anybody walking by.  Most of the time I can’t see who is driving so I end up waving to practically every vehicle that passes.  Brendan says ‘Do you know them?’ I reply ‘No, but I had better wave just in case’.

The closest neighbours don’t miss a trick.  They just blatantly stand in the garden and watch what we are doing, what is being delivered or who is visiting.  Today we collected old clay tiles from Jean-Claude (we bought the land from him and wife Pierrette, Brendan keeps calling her Pirouette!) to use as hard core.  As we passed the neighbour I waved, but he didn’t return my wave because he was too busy on his tippy-toes trying to see what we had in the back of the truck! However, they are lovely and I don’t mind that they are keeping an eye on the site.  They keep a pristine garden so we are under pressure when we get ours underway.

We have had offers of help, masses of fruit and plenty of advice.  I am sure had we been as involved with French neighbours from the start our French language would have been far better than it is today.  C’est la vie!