Tag Archives: goatherd

Sunday 21st February 2010 – Today got off to a really bad start.

Yes – someone rang me up this morning – at 09:41 would you believe. And what is worse is that this certain someone had already been told twice about ringing or trying to ring me on a Sunday morning while I’m having my beauty sleep – and with a face like mine I need as much beauty sleep as I can get.

The answer to this is of course simple – you transmit your message to the offender by beating it into his skull in morse code with a pickaxe handle. I have never known that to fail and it may well come to that of it happens again.

It was a gorgeous day today as well though – at least in the morning. So much so that I had the heater on in here and I also did a load of washing. But I have this magnificent way of summoning up the rain. Never mind your rain dances, or seeding clouds or whatever I just hang some washing up and down comes the rain. But not before we had 26.1 degrees in the verandah – the highest total since 21st November of our Indian Summer. Spring can’t be all that far away.

I caught up with the mailing that has been outstanding for a week and I also sent out the circular for the Anglo_French Conversation Group. And one person sent me a mail back saying “please take my name off your list”. This person is the webmaster for the Reseau Rurale – the organisation that co-ordinates the activities of the Alternative Community around here.

As you know I don’t see eye-to-eye with the Reseau following the events that I have described earlier surrounding the legendary Goatherd of Teilhet – so much so that they are refusing to e-mail me the details of their events so that I can broadcast them on my radio show (you’ve no idea how far some people will carry a vendetta – cutting their noses off to spite their faces is nothing compared to the activities of this lot).

But this takes the biscuit.

Readers of my outpourings in its previous guise will recall the events of September/October 2008 when the webmaster’s car broke down. I was out one night until after midnight trying to fix it for him and then when it was diagnosed as being irrepairable it was “run me here” “take me there” “fetch me this” “carry me that” every blasted five minutes. Not that I minded, of course – we foreigners out here are all in it together – but the moment he bought a car (and it was me who found it for him and made the appropriate enquiries about it) that was that and he hasn’t spoken to me since! That’s gratitude for you!

The answer to this though is of course “power”. You give some henpecked, downtrodden person a little bit of power and they can’t resist using it to the fullest, most extreme limits possible … and this blog is?” – ed … so really you ought to feel just a little sorry for people like that. But it makes you wonder what else goes on in their lives that they feel the need to behave like this. Still, I don’t care. I’m fed up of trying to “understand” people and “making allowances” for them – no-one does it for me after all. I think that at the end of the day the only answer is the pickaxe handle and the message in morse code.

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Thursday 26th November 2009 – "This is the song of a girl and goatherd….

…. lay oh dalayee oh da layeeeeeeooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhh”
sang Julie Andrews in “The Sound of Music”. And I should know. Having a stagestruck mother whose own mother (my grandmother) was a Zeigfield Folly on Broadway in the 1920s I had as a child to sit through every single musical that ever came out and I know the script and the lyrics of each one off by heart. And I don’t ever want to see another musical for as long as I live.

But Julie Andrews didn’t know the story about one particular goatherd who lived just down the road here in Teilhet. He had rented some land for his goats – land that had been “promised” to other people. And one night all his goats were killed. And another night his barn was burnt down. And then he received threatening letters.

A group of people around here felt that the police were dragging their heels and that it was the locals, having been “promised” the land, who were behind all of the shenanigans. This group organised all kinds of demonstrations aimed at confronting the police, trying to provoke some kind of retaliation by the authorities into the locals and their affairs – generally stirring up the community and the like. I was asked to join in the action too, but I stepped back and urged the others to think before they went too far. I usually like to hear both sides of the story before I leap into anything.

This didn’t go down too well at all with some of the others and when a most offensive petition aimed at the local community was drafted in the name of an organisation of which I happened to be a member, I withdrew my support. I received a barrage of e-mails the contents of which would have been out of place in the fo’c’sle of The Good Ship Venus. Accusing me of “being just as guilty as those who are behind the violence” was the least of the criticisms.

Meanwhile, about 100 miles away from here in a village called Tarnac, there is “The Tarnac affair”. Persons unknown placed some railway sleepers across the main TGV line in an attempt to derail a train. Luckily no major damage was done. A short while later a group of young persons in Tarnac was rounded up by the police in respect of this sabotage and were charged, not under “civil” legislation such as criminal damage and the like, but special “terrorism” legislation. It was claimed that this group of persons had contacts with other international groups aimed at disrupting civil society and that sort of thing.

One person whose evidence was instrumental in this case was the famous “witness X”, whose identity was kept secret to avoid “repercussions” due to the nature of his evidence.

And today, the identity of “witness X” has been announced. And who do you think that it is?

Yes, you’re right. None other than our local goatherd.

Now of course there is no evidence to suggest that this group of terrorists or any supporters thereof are behind the attacks on this guy’s farm and his goats (graphologists attached to the French Government say that the writing on the letters matches his own handwriting but he denies this) but it’s a story that is at least as plausible as that of the outraged locals undertaking the attacks. And you can see why the authorities have been thought to be dragging their feet in this affair – the ramifications of the goatherd’s involvement with the “terrorists” of the Tarnac affair stretch across all kinds of international boundaries and go way beyond an ordinary village feud.

Pretty soon, I’ll be seeing some of the people involved in this sorry affair. I’m not expecting an apology for the vilification and the ostracism to which I have been subjected over the past 12 months, but I’ll be intrigued to see how many of them come up to me and admit that I had a very valid point.

In other news, Terry came round today and we went and shovelled some sand into some sacks. 1.4 tonnes of it. We had some good luck too at the quarry, but in the interests of discretion (you never know who reads this blog) I can’t say anything about it.

Afterwards I did some washing, including my really comfy “Hawkshead” boots that a slug had made a home in and as I couldn’t settle down afterwards I went into St Eloy and did my shopping. I met Francois from the Anglo-French group in LIDL and we had a chat.

Yes, shopping today. That’s unusual. But I’m busy all day Saturday. Terry and Liz are having a chantier at their house and that might mean vegan chocolate cake.

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