Showing posts with label Costaud. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Costaud. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 27

Milk And Beans, Beans And Milk

26th May
There's a farm nearby that sells milk hot off the cow’s teat - on my previous visits I'd turned up at the wrong time (too early they're still milking, too late the milk lorry has taken it all away). Today when I arrived at the dairy a woman was swabbing the floor, we chatted in French at first, then she asked where I was from and she started speaking to me in English Canadian which was nice and interesting so my return was considerably delayed - but I did have several gallons of milk with me.

When I finally got back to the house I discovered that Mme Costaud had cycled by to tell us about a bees nest up a tree in the woods that was all open at the back. I was mortified to discover that The Director had shown her my potager. Like everyone around here Mme Costaud's potager is massive and immaculate - mine is a mess, the beans especially, are weedy and smothered with aphids. The Director thinks that she gave him some advice about pruning but I suspect she was telling him to set fire to it and start again.

I returned Mme C's visit and found her dressed in her husband’s clothes picking her way through a field of tree-sized broad bean plants. M. Costaud was in the back yard, wearing a lady's veiled sun hat and chopping wood. I joined in with the bean-picking and was sent home with very large sack of beans for our household.

Monday, August 25

I find out where all the sausages come from

25th August
A woman who the French would describe as costaud cycled into our yard this morning, I've passed her place and watched agog as she worked; wielding a chainsaw, hefting sacks of animal feed and tending an impressive potager.

Today Mme Costaud mumbled something about whether I'd like to look at her cobwebs and I pedalled with her back up the road to look at a great barn hung with huge webby drapes. I now don't know whether to feel better or inadequate about our cobwebs in the Lovely House.

Mme Costaud, has very badly fitting false teeth, the little she says is virtually incomprehensible, she gave me a tour of her smallholding. She keeps a few of every kind of beast including hares which are set free when they reach maturity, to make up for the ones she shoots when she's out hunting, she also raises pigs for other villagers and when the time comes... she showed me the pulley and hook where the pig is hoisted, throat cut, the blood is kept for boudin noir. The body is carted off by it's sponsor to be turned into chops and charcuterie. I happen to know that Scary Eena always has a couple of the Costaud pigs and is famed for her rillettes. Remembering that the sideboard in the Lovely House is actually a pig scrubbing trough with a board over it, I asked whether I could pay to keep a pig at her's for next year, Mme Costaud was blunt on the issue and responded simply, non.

The Costaud family were against the construction of the Salle des Fetes and, until recently, have all boycotted the place. Her son has now become a double agent visiting both the Bar and the Salle - the family is riven, father and son are no longer on speaking terms.
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