Wednesday, March 25, 2009

the pitter-patter of concrete feet

What should wake me this morning but the unexpected arrival of two cement lorries. Unexpected - and suspicious - since the weight restrictions haven't been lifted yet.

Our property is on the border of two communes and can be approached by a single-track road from either. The "barrière de dégel" sign is still in place at our commune's end, but the one at the other end (which is less conspicuous and small enough to throw into a hedge - if you were to be so inclined) has disappeared. When I asked BB if he had anything to do with this he was uncharacteristically sheepish.

Once the concrete had been dumped, the lorries then had to leave by the same route, which meant reversing back up the narrow twisty road for half a mile, clinging like goats to the side of a mountain to avoid the precipitous drop into the (newly deforested) gorge 150 feet below.

The builders spent all morning tamping and float finishing the dalle (to get "a glass-like finish reflecting the stars at night", trilled BB) and as they left at lunchtime, I realised I'd forgotten to lock the catflap - just as I saw three cats padding around in the wet concrete.

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