The Final Cut

I have been trying to work out why it should be that, over the last few weeks, I have been waking in the early hours, usually between 2.00 and 3.00, and have felt as though I have had a full night's sleep.  It has never taken me long, however, to go back to sleep - but when I should be getting up to see to the dog and make the tea, I feel lethargic and want another half hour in bed.  Or longer.

Yesterday morning I was lying there, trying to instil in myself some degree of ... no, not urgency, but the need to move myself and let the dog down the garden before I had a puddle to mop up, when I thought I heard rain.  Rather surprisingly, I was mistaken.  Perhaps I should redraft that last sentence as it was no surprise that I was wrong, but it was surprising that there was no rain.  Given that this was the second, or maybe the third, consecutive day and night without rain, I decided that the lawn would probably dry out sufficiently by mid-afternoon for me to push the mower up and down for the last time this year.  But that, alas, was not to be as events conspired against me.

You might be forgiven for thinking as a result of reading that last sentence, especially the first six words, that I enjoy mowing the lawn.  Far from it.  There was a time when I relished the idea of pushing a heavy, old, hand mower up and down the slopes of our lawn.  That was back in the days when I was working and, after a day in a London office and two hours of commuting each way, getting out into the fresh air of the garden and taking some fairly gentle exercise was balm to my soul.  But those days are long gone.  As is the old hand mower.  Nowadays I use an electric mower.  This does make life considerably easier in many ways but somehow there is not the same sense of satisfaction at the end of the job.  All the same, I hope I will be able to cut the grass this afternoon.

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The Grand Café du Commerce in the centre of Pouancé is never especially busy but Thursday is the busiest day of the week.  That is market day - not that market day produces very much hustle and bustle, unlike many larger towns.