"When the goose honks high, fair weather; when the goose honks low, foul weather"
I don't know whose quotation that is, but somewhere there must have been a goose honking low enough to cause the wind, rain, hail, and thunder to arrive all at the same time around 6.00pm yesterday evening, just before we were due to leave for a fancy dress barbecue. Eventually it stopped. For goodness sake, it's not as if we're in a state of drought over here. CHESNUT STUFFING to you goosebird, wherever you might be!
The barbecue is annual event which a lovely French lady - Marie-Do, organises for one of our Anglo-French groups. This was the first time we'd managed to get to it as previous years we've been away. The theme this year was Cowboys and Indians. Mike went in cowboyish mode with lanyard, jeans and check shirt - his authentic cowboy boots are in storage in the UK. I was in Navajo Indianish mode with jewellery we'd bought when we were over in the States a few years back. We were passable, others really went to town and had hired costumes. We had cowgirls, mexican bandits, outlaws, sheriffs, a few Indian maidens, ranch hands, gunslingers and an Indian Chief otherwise known as Jean-François.
The goose honking weather didn't spoil anything. A really fun night. About forty of us. Everyone had bought something for the meal, along with glasses, plates, cutlery etc. Our host Marie-Do, supplied wine, bread and all the barbecue meats. We were on lift duty, taking two friends who'd been before, which is just as well as we'd never have found the cave (phonetically carve), where the barbecue was being held. All I can tell you is we picked our friends up in Chinon, took the road from Chinon to Avoine, but at some point about half way turned left into a village, then turned right, continued straight on for a bit, then turned left. We went straight on again at which point we were on a narrow grass track. Then we turned right and parked under some trees. There in front of us was another track leading to an open door and Marie-Do's cave - basically in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly the torch became one of my most favourite items. A fire was going inside - one of those large grates you often find in old chateaux, which here doubled-up as the barbecue grill. Four friends had got the space ready and had lit the fire first thing in the morning, as it was so damp inside. The walls were literally dripping. By the time we all got there in the evening, the cave had dried out perfectly. With all the tables, it looked great.
We were outside to begin with for apèros, but after that we went back in. Mosquitoes were out and about. Fab food. We'd got some songs organised - Home on the Range and other groan worthy oops sorry. . . quality compositions that conveyed to perfection the wild, open plains of the American West - welcome to Trip Advisor. One of the Americans there had an interesting family history, which included settlers travelling by wagon across vast swathes of territory, with everything they owned. Think she has diaries from the period. From what she was saying, it's one of the details that American Westerns, tv and film, have actually managed to get right. The party started around 7.30 and we left there after midnight, so after we dropped everyone off, we crawled in about 12.45.
As to the cave - well it's due to Marie-Do's own family history that we were able to have the party there. Her father bought it a while back as a place to specifically to have parties. She's continued the tradition as a hommage to her father, who was by all accounts a very popular man. He was also the village blacksmith and made everything for the village, from locks, keys, bolts and of course horse shoes. At one time all the village horses were wearing his hand made shoes. That's bespoke for you. Marie-Do has undoubtedly inherited her father's personality and his sense of fun. As we saw last night, she knows how to throw a party.
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