Blackout

Sunday 21st July Well, there I was philosophizing about my existential angst and feeling that I had is sort of sorted, and then a new test of my self sufficiency emerged in the form of electricity outage. A frantic hunt for a large torch ensued followed by a visit to The Neighbour to confirm that this was not just a misfortune that had struck my house – needless to say it was not, we are in the midst of some rather terrifying storms and the whole hamlet, and possibly the village, is without electricity. It’s banal to say that we don’t realize how dependent we are on electricity. Light, TV and the Internet all depend thereon. Gas I do have, so can cook. To sum it up, I have the essentials, but not my entertainment – reading, TV and the Internet, and I’m sorry to be (probably) missing The White Queen on TV to which I was much looking forward. However, there is also a sense in which this is rather exciting and comforting – at least I have my bed to lie on, my dear dogs round me (not literally), a house that keeps out the elements, and a light to read by. It’s a sense of paring down to life’s basics, and living as people used to live, which has a certain novelty value (which I am sure would/will pale if it goes on for more than 24 hours). Today I went to an Elevage (which I suppose means a display) of Brittany spaniels in Saint Lo, an uninspiring little town in lower Normandy, on the borders of the River Vire. I met a nice Englishman, his less pleasant wife who told me that Honda was terribly thin (which I had suspected, but the vets in both countries seemed quite happy), and I also saw her breeder. Perhaps the nicest thing was seeing a lot of other Brittanies, which would have been nice in itself, but what was really nice was that they all pulled on the lead, and I heard other tales of them going off to the next county. I met another English couple who had recently lost a Brittany, and were just about to buy another. I did manage to get from them that the first four years had been hell, but that things had calmed down after that (presumably the Brittany in question had lived well beyond her fourth birthday). Some one else said that if you saw a Brittany walking to heel, it had been tranquillized. I went back via Coutances, famed for its beautiful cathedral, into which I needless to say could not take my dogs, so they and I sat on the steps and contemplated (at least I did) the breathtaking gothic interior. Then home in horrendous heat and this storm, which is still going on, and still no electricity. Which just about brings me up to date – not much more to say, really. I think it will be no White Queen tonight, just more George East on Brittany. So, just a hunt for my slippers (at least in this dark, I do have an excuse for losing things) and off to bed with George.