Celebrations

Celebrations
On Saturday neighbour Marie-Elisabeth called round to say she was having a birthday party that evening and could I come. She had just arrived from England for a short stay with American partner Mark. Both are working in England at the moment, she an interior designer and he a film production manager. The dozen or so invitees were mostly neighbours from along the road. Marie-Elisabeth and Mark had decided on Mexican food, tacos and tortillas with the usual fillings. What surprised me was that none of my French neighbours had apparently eaten thus before and they simply stared in perplexity at the food. It fell to me to show how to fill and roll up a tortilla. The others then thoroughly enjoyed the food, although noticeably avoiding the hotter chili sauces. I was interested because I had thought of preparing something similar one day, because it's simple, but hesitated because I was not sure how it would be received. Now I know.

Sunday was the 25th anniversary of the English library at Beaumont. A bit of a knees-up had been organised and it all went off very well. The library has progressed from being a single room in a house owned by Pat and Brian Stapleton, two former employees of the British Council, to now occupying two large rooms housing some three thousand books. And the inventory is now computerised. The handful of initial members has grown only to several dozen but there are plans to stock the English section in the Mollans library (when they get some shelves) and to make the database available to colleges in Vaison, Carpentras, Avignon and even further afield. At the moment broadband hasn't reached Beaumont; the commune has only some 300 inhabitants scattered in three hamlets. When broadband arrives, the database will be made available over the Internet, although there are no plans to provide a postal service.

And A Joke.......
From René, of course, at the pizza evening today. A small boy was playing in his parent's bedroom when his mother unexpectedly arrived home. So he hid in the wardrobe. His mother had come back with her lover. Soon after, they were interrupted when his father also returned home, so his mother hid her lover in the wardrobe. Seeing he had company, the boy said: “It's dark in here”. The lover agreed. Then the small boy said: “I've got a football to sell, for 250 euros”. The lover said: “250 euros! That's robbery!” “Yes,” said the boy, “but if you don't buy it I'll have to tell my father what you have been doing.” So the lover agreed.

A few weeks later there was the same scenario. The boy said it was dark in the wardrobe and the lover agreed. This time the boy had a pair of trainers to sell, for 150 euros. Again the lover had to agree.

A few days after that the father said to the boy: “It's a lovely day, get your trainers and football and we'll go out and play.”

“We can't”, said the boy. “I've sold my trainers and the football, for 400 euros.”

“400 euros!” exclaimed the father. “That's robbery! You must come with me immediately to the church and confess”.

So the father drags the boy off to the church, puts him in a confessional box and closes the door. The boy says: “It's dark in here”.

“Oh no!” says the priest. “Don't start that again; I've already paid you 400 euros and that is enough”.