The fascination of contemplation of deterioration

Here we are back in Fa, the village ever content at the centre of the universe, the world spinning about its axis, so no change there . . .

The usual signs of summer are all present and correct. The bonking frogs are back in the Faby, their nightly crescendos more deafening than ever. A cool beer may once again be enjoyed on the sunny terrace of the Cafédefa.

Tomorrow we will be overwhelmed by hordes of bargain-hunters at the village vide grénier. I'm always vaguely alarmed at the prospect of people depositing huge piles of tat down at la batteuse (sort of big tin shed for outdoor events) and trying to fob it off on each other for hard cash. Still it's a harmless way to pass a pleasant Sunday so I'm being ludicrously over-critical. I may just succumb to a few "treasures" myself . . .

Once again there are fresh herbs outside my front door. Basil, tarragon, chervil, marjoram, thyme, oregano, chives . . . straight off the plant and into the dinner; you can't beat it. I'm trying to grow as many as possible this year, and I'm rapidly running out of room on le wooden decking très rustique which props up my pots.

Suddenly nothing happened again. I can never quite decide whether this a good thing or not. I suppose I've got all contemplative and philosophical having just passed the alleged milestone age of 50.

I'm not in bad nick apart from eyes, knees, shoulder, back, arthritis, amnesia . . . sorry, what was I on about just then? Here in our hot, happening band Les Malfonctionnaires, we had to cancel a gig due to a hernia op, though it's business as usual now. Cool, eh? Just how rock'n'roll is that!! Meanwhile I realised I was missing notes owing to the fretboard going blurred. Hey man, amazing drugs . . . er no, crap eyesight actually. NB Prospective bookers of the band should not worry: Once unleashed from our Nanny State-sponsored wheelchairs, we still rip it up like there's no tomorrow.

It seems to have taken me a couple of weeks to jot down a few thoughts about the afore-mentioned semi-century. I should really have reported it on the day, as your ace correspondent for this part of the world. But then again, what's the hurry?