Demolition men

The entry court

24.7.09

Tied to a chair, and the bomb is ticking
This situation was not of your picking
You say that this wasn't in your plan
And don't mess around with the demolition man

Pourtant, oui ce fut bien parti de mon plan.
But you don't mess around with the demolition man.

He does what you tell him to do, so you'd better be sure of what you tell him.

"Madame X, auriez vous les clefs du portail?" demanda Georges, appearing at the French doors. "Je l'ai changé," dit-il, referring to the gate, a little smile making a twinkle in his black Portuguese eye when he asked for the keys and one of us to go with him to the gate to make sure the keys "still worked".

Hm?

"Oui, je dois les avoir --," I turned and saw Sam, who was just coming down from his room, "Tiens, Sam, tu ne les aurais pas, non?" He stuck his hand in his vintage work-out jacket pocket.

"Yeah."

"Tu irais avec lui? Je travaille là." He nodded and headed out the door behind Georges. I copied more pavers from one terrace to the next one.

"Tu aimes bien le bois?" Sam came back reporting Georges had asked. I lifted my head, "I told him yes," he went on, "He was joking. I took him seriously." He colored, feeling a little sheepish to have been proven a little gullible.

Curiosity piqued, I went out in the falling rain to look, just as their car drove by the demolished pillars. I raised my hand to wave. It was only a little after 3 pm, but it had been raining steadily. Besides, there are natural break-off points in the work. They had come to one.

And Georges had come up with a pretty "chouette" solution to keep the gate in place a few days longer, and I didn't even get to tell him.

Chapeau.

The plans advance. I found a supplier of recovered paving stones. I have square meter prices and delivery dates coming in.

I have not spoken to my associé, my mari.
....