It is 7.00pm. There is a knock on the door. It is the Mayor.
‘Bonjour Madame Harrington. Can I speak with your husband.’
‘Yes, come in.’
Sounds serious. Why would the Mayor be visiting us at 7.00pm on a Saturday evening? Could it be about the Right of Way? There is a small strip of land which goes across our garden, an ancient Right of Way which we have been trying to buy for 5 years, but no one seems to have ownership of the Right of Way.
‘Would you like a glass of wine or a coffee?’ I offer.
‘Later’, the Mayor replies, ‘Monsieur Harrington, would you come with me?’
Twenty minutes later they return. The Mayor is now smiling and accepts a coffee.
Mark and the Mayor talk briefly about politics, the new Solar panels at the farm at Pleucaduc and the changes in the Local Plan reducing the amount of building land.
He finishes his coffee and leaves.
‘What was all that about?’ I hiss as he pulls out of the drive,
We close the door.
‘We now have livestock.’
‘What?’, my voice unnaturally high.
‘Horses, four of them, in the field. The mayor has run out of grass.’
‘Do we have to do anything?’, I am nervous of horses, huge creatures with big teeth and kicking hooves.
‘Hope not.’ Mark says grinning…’Want to see them?’
‘Bonjour Madame Harrington. Can I speak with your husband.’
‘Yes, come in.’
Sounds serious. Why would the Mayor be visiting us at 7.00pm on a Saturday evening? Could it be about the Right of Way? There is a small strip of land which goes across our garden, an ancient Right of Way which we have been trying to buy for 5 years, but no one seems to have ownership of the Right of Way.
‘Would you like a glass of wine or a coffee?’ I offer.
‘Later’, the Mayor replies, ‘Monsieur Harrington, would you come with me?’
Twenty minutes later they return. The Mayor is now smiling and accepts a coffee.
Mark and the Mayor talk briefly about politics, the new Solar panels at the farm at Pleucaduc and the changes in the Local Plan reducing the amount of building land.
He finishes his coffee and leaves.
‘What was all that about?’ I hiss as he pulls out of the drive,
We close the door.
‘We now have livestock.’
‘What?’, my voice unnaturally high.
‘Horses, four of them, in the field. The mayor has run out of grass.’
‘Do we have to do anything?’, I am nervous of horses, huge creatures with big teeth and kicking hooves.
‘Hope not.’ Mark says grinning…’Want to see them?’
The Mayors' horses.
1 comment:
Aie...hopefully you negotiated it as a temporary thing? Because once you let someone graze their animals on your land, it's really difficult to take it back for your own use because they can claim "droit d'usage" (especially when the person in question is the Mayor...)
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