Our friend Florence arrives just before nine this morning to do “the exercises”.
We call them Yoga for Softies.
They last 35 minutes and are a mix of disciplines including pilates, yoga, tai chi, and various others learned over years, which have gelled into a sequence.
They are hardly taxing–hence the title–but the three of us always feel better for doing them–certainly more virtuous.
Meredith and I then have breakfast and Flo, who has been up betimes seeing to her goats, joins for coffee and chat.
Flo tells us it’s St Médard’s day today–June 8th. If it rains today it will–according to legend–rain for 40 days.
St. Médard not having much luck.
I anxiously look out of the window, and remember what they say about St. Swithin’s day (July 15th) in the UK:
St Swithun’s day if thou dost rain
For forty days it will remain
St Swithun’s day if thou be fair
For forty days ’twill rain nae mare
or less poetically:
If on St Swithun’s day it really pours
You’re better off to stay indoors.
Further research (Wikipedia) reveals that:
“There is a scientific basis to the legend of St Swithun’s day.”
“Around the middle of July, the jet stream settles into a pattern which, in the majority of years, holds reasonably steady until the end of August.”
“When the jet stream lies north of the British Isles then continental high pressure is able to move in; when it lies across or south of the British Isles, Arctic air and Atlantic weather systems predominate.” (bringing bad weather).
By mid-afternoon Myriam arrives and says all is not lost even if it rains today.
The French version has a “get out” clause in the shape of St Barnabé (June 11th).
She writes it down:
“A moins que Barnabé ne lui coupe l’herbe sous les pieds.”
[“Unless Barnabas gives him a kick!”]
In other words, if the sun shines this Saturday, all will be well!
St. Barnabas a.k.a. the Cavalry!
It’s late afternoon now and still no need of Barnabé!
