Bulletin from "Les Deux Cantous"

ESCAPE

 

The quiet serenity of a nearby enclosed pasture was disturbed during the early morning hours of Saturday when two equine descendants made good their escape. 

 

Two donkeys, wonderful pets and faithful companions to the burg's Town Crier, were seen trodding the paths next to their broken down fence to explore nearby gardens.  They made their way to many yards, exploring areas to which they usually have limited access, to taste the botanical bounty.

 

It has been reported on good authority that they were assisted in their escape by a nimble deer that usually resides in the outlying forest.  Said deer would have apparently entered the enclosed pasture with a leap and a bound, then torn down the fence when making its retreat.  Our two escapees then followed suit, albeit at a more leisurely pace.

 

The Chateau's Grounds Keeper intends to have the deer in his sight come hunting season, starting in a few weeks.  "It is unconscionable that a stranger in our midst should aid and abet in this daring escape!  The culprit will be apprehended and face his just punishment."  There is talk of a firing squad as a fit ending for this miscreant.

 

Our two escapees were seen peeping through the kitchen door at Les Deux Cantous, hoping to look sad and in desperate need of a carrot.  The tenant did not acquiesce to such begging.

 

The Town Crier repaired the fence and repatriated his two wards.  We will next see the donkeys when they return to the lower pasture to eat grass, acting as the local lawn mowers that they are.

 

 



 

 

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LIGHTENING STRIKE

 

 

 

 

With temperatures hovering in the mid 30s, all the talk of an upcoming storm went unheeded.  The Town Crier beat his drum, stood on his wooden crate, and advised all and sundry to batten down the hatches, bring in the laundry, round up the chickens - a storm was coming.  Few listened.

 

Despite a laissez-faire attitude from the town's folk, the skies did deliver on its promise.  The clouds closed in, the air became heavy, and the first rumblings were heard from afar. 

 

As the first fat drops of rain fell and those initial claps of thunder were heard in the distance, the tenants from Les Deux Cantous made preparations.  The candles from the dining hutch were lined up on the table and matches were retrieved from the alcove above the fireplace.  The windows were closed and the computers turned off.  A sense of anticipation permeated the small dwelling on La Roche.

 

The lightening streaks became brighter and more electrifying, the thunder closer and bolder.  The huge picture windows of the living and dining rooms framed the light show magnificently.  And then it happened.  Lightening struck!

 

All the lights in the house went off.  Not a sound was heard other than the pummeling rain and the continued thunder.  The matches were old and did not strike.  The gas range to the rescue!  The candles were lit and voilà - there was flickering light.

 

Outside on the street, two lamp standards were still on.  As well, the lights in the little house down the road.  It appeared that only Les Deux Cantous was without power.  Our fearless tenant gingerly made his way to the closet next to the front door, in search of the power box.  With a flip of a switch, the lights were back on!

 

The storm continued to rage, but the critical moment had passed.  Thor, the God of Thunder, continued on his journey.  Les Deux Cantous remained safe and secure.

 

 

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