Two pence-anthropology / Chapter I, France Of the Middle

#1
There is here, and there is the rest of the Western world.
The rest of the world is far, beyond the mountains; it’s a long donkey ride into the unknown. In many ways, this part of the world still has to catch up with the most daring advances of progress and civilisation. For instance, the people here have not been sartorially enlightened.Everywhere else but here everyone and their mother and wearing a poncho; not here. Perhaps because it’s so freaking cold here, the outfit of choice for Winter makes everyone, men and women, look like sexless mummies. Fortunately, there are secondary sexual signs to distinguish the sexes. Hair.
#2
I am counting; the number of women over the age of 50 with crimson hair is alarming. I am yet to come up with a theory about it. Zabélie blames Tchernobyl. I am not so sure. No matter what, I am saddened to count my mother as one of the victims of the Crimson Menace. Isn’t it sad when someone close to your heart ends up a statistic?
I wonder if I’d like to see more ponchos and fewer pillarbox-red heads.
#3
Dogs. Are everywhere. There are two kinds: in the posh area of town, they are small, yappy, overfed, and they come with tartan bows and little coats and matching ageing, female, well-off owners.
In the town center dogs are large, underfed and hostile, held tight on their leash by equally underfed and hostile, multiply-pierced people. Those people would like to think they’re punks. They conglomerate to get drunk on Kronenbourg (punk beer) around bus shelters or on the steps of the cathedral, and scare the shit out of the middle class females. Sometimes the hounds take a bite out of the pampered little bichon frisés; for fun. Or perhaps they are genuinely underfed.
No matter the breed or social status, dog owners won’t stoop to pick up their pet’s turds. Fortunately, the cold freezes them solid, so not much damage is done if you inadvertently kick one. On the other hand, I remember a hot day in July.. But better not summon ugly memories.

I really wish it would snow and people would stay the fuck home and stop walking around buying stuff they don’t need. Merry Christmas my arse. I’ll have a glass of water and a dry cracker tonight.
Love you all.