Pinson et Four à Pain

There's always a day, some time in February in this part of western France, when the chaffinch turns our thoughts to spring.

photo courtesy flickr

Today, in the hushed queue for mid-morning bread at our village's make-do boulangerie counter inside the supérette, I shook hands with the cantonnier.

He confided with a wink that the sap would soon be rising, especially in the hedgerows, so he needed to hurry along with the Renault-orange municipal tractor and hedge-flailer.

We used to have a real boulangerie, with chilled vitrines, vertical stacks of still-crackling baguettes, and the smell of warm croissants at 7a.m. when, for a baker's dozen years we drove our kids to their pre-sunrise winter rendez-vous the school bus.

But a spat two years ago between the ancient, absent, money-grabbing landlady owner and the young, dynamic, financially-challenged tenant boulanger put paid to that. Allegedly. There were, according to several reliable gossips, "frank and heated exchanges about who should pay for maintenance of the wood-fired four à pain bread oven: propriétaire ou locataire?".

The resulting dialogue des sourds (no épées used, just lots of shouting: sourd = deaf . Ed) led to the appearance in the old boulangerie window one October morning of an acrimoniously scrawled note, spitting an infinitive in two grammatically incorrect syllables from the back of a paper cake-plate:

"Fermer"

Confused infinitives and imperatives notwithstanding, the prospect of a breadless French village occasioned an outbreak of apoplexie at all levels. There was much shrugging, and even more shouting, in caves throughout the commune, as citizens conspired to find someone to blame...Preferably some municipal office-holder or other. Preferably the Maire.

This morning, in the bread queue, retentive chatter seemed to indicate that the emergency was over. And it had only taken a year and a half. The Maire would at last be able to sleep a little more easily.

As I walked out of the supérette, baguette in hand, the Pinson sang his line of springtime.

The flourish at the end of the song seemed to say:

"Look over there"...

(Strewth. A bilingual French chaffinch. Call the BBC. Ed)

Next to where the café used to be, a builders' Citroën Jumper van was parked. The occupants were unloading a pallet. The sign on the package proclaimed;

"Four à Pain".

Lexique;

Cantonnier: Il travaille pour la Mairie.

Supérette: Un supermarché en plus petit.

Cave: Là où on stocke le vin. En Vendée les hommes ont leur rendez-vous dans la cave.

Vitrine: Présentoir réfrigéré contenant éclairs, gâteaux au chocolat...

Pinson: Oiseau qui chante en anglais et en français. Comme Sandie Shaw.