Friday 20 June 2008


And then it was summer.

The temperature went over 30, the butterfly bush bloomed and they came and cut the hay.

For what seems like weeks the house has slowly been surrounded by waves of impenetrable sodden grass, some of it as high as me. Then, without warning the tractor came, saw and conquered and now the meadow is open, the buzzards feed on the mice that have no where to hide and the early morning deer graze at the edge of the wood.

And tomorrow is the 21st, solstice, mid summer and here FĂȘte de La Musique.

Advertising an event does not appear to be a French skill, though the event itself is a gem.

Last year the Surreal Teens, total girl band, stepped up onto the pallet and chipboard stage just after the local yoga teacher had finished a sing along.

A shiver of excitement galvanised a crowd of (mostly) school mates to push to the front of the assorted-assembled.

Rumours had been circulating the school yard for weeks and had finally seeped out into the village; they had been practicing in the garage at home every night for at least a fortnight and they had two songs.

As the dusk settled protectively around us the electric guitars kicked in; this would be the only chance to see the lead singer as she was moving to Paris the next day but any potential disappointment was balanced by the fact that the drummer was even better than the rumours.

They were nervous, raw and innocent and the first number was forgettable, but the enthusiasm of the crowd, most of whom had already kissed everyone on stage, was infectious and we pushed tighter, the flames of the traditional Fire of St Jean silhouetting our heads on to the wall of the hardware store.

And then they played ACDC's Highway from Hell.

It was so good, and the crowd roared so much that they played it again.

This year The Surreal Teens are on the programme again, (though i think we should be told why the Saucisses de Sanglier make higher appearance on the flyer for the event), and rumour from the street is that they have one new song.

But we will all be screaming for Highway.

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