Conversations with My Gardener Page #2

- I've one in the car.

- Not now.

What's all this ironmongery?

People accumulate junk.

Especially around here.

We'll have to think on, though.

I could sort through it

with my son-in-law.

I doubt you'll keep much.

We'll dump the rest.

- Or give it to a charity.

- You think?

They'll strip it down to the bone...

...but grab what you want to keep.

They take all or nothing.

Anyway, we need a scythe.

The sickle's murder on my back.

We'll take this one.

That's a fine product.

- Shall I wrap it?

- No, I'll try it.

- What for?

- Wretch!

You'd know why

if you used one all day.

The weight's important,

the handling, the balance...

you don't want to tire the arms

or the hips.

- Ever heard of the zzee?

- The zzee?

You sell scythes and don't know.

I'll show you.

Mind your backs.

Hold this, please.

Here we go.

Zzee!

Well beaten, ground and sharpened.

You won't regret buying it.

I've workmen coming in

so I'll be in Paris

sorting out business.

- You could make inroads.

- No problem.

When you get back.

I'll be taking off.

- Where?

- Annual firemars trip to Royan.

- It's Royan this year?

- Every year.

A day to prepare, a day's trip

and a day to recover.

Three days.

- Royan every year?

- Every year.

But I'll have mown the grass by then.

An army cut:
Short on top,

back and sides.

- It'll be a surprise for your lady.

- She won't be coming.

Oh? Will she stay on there?

We're breaking up.

Not divorce?

It's heading that way.

My fault though.

I was a bit silly,

had a couple of flings.

Models, mainly.

When you spend hours

with a lovely naked girl,

you just think of painting.

As long as you just look,

it's professional interest.

No, that's just it.

After the session,

you look with different eyes.

You see the lovely naked girl,

not the model.

Yes, I see.

In the past,

my wife would close her eyes.

But now they're open.

So the lettuce are up to you.

Lettuce is lettuce.

Not a bit. There are more varieties

than you can shake a stick at.

There's Webb, Cos, Iceberg, Endive...

Not Endive. You pick the rest.

So I'm in charge of lettuce.

Yes. And all of the fruit and veg,

everything.

You won't be disappointed, old son.

But I'll need a garden tap.

Best keep these in a safe place.

The workshop's locked.

Fine. You won't mix up

my tools with yours!

Just put them in here.

She's forgotten the bread.

- Who?

- The neighbour.

Maybe not. From the baker's

by the old bridge?

- Yes.

- From Raguet, no doubt.

You knew the son, Antoine.

Toinou Raguet.

A little fat lad that smelled of pee.

No. You have a good memory.

Because I haven't moved from here.

I've lived among the memories.

And Toinou Raguet?

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