Le Parcellaire

Le Parcellaire Content : La Bastide de Sérou, rue d’Arize - Foix - 14 July
La Tour Lafont - Pamiers -18 July
Giant chestnut trees - Le Temps des Cerises - The wild Boar - Land Parcel 234-235, 21 July
Faydit de Brouzenac - 22 July
Mr de la Bastide
Apple-trees, Notre Dame de Sabart, Land Parcel 20, 8 August
Mr l’Escoussière, Land Parcels 228, 229, 242, 251, 9 August
Mimine at Eychenat
From one mill to another ...
Mélanie of the Goats, 11th August
The Knight of the ferruginous waters, Baron of Alzen
The black bicycle
Land Parcels 169, 172,12 August - The Arize / Mr Fallacy
Land Parcels 229, 234, 228, 13 August – Mr L’Escoussière / Norbert Casteret
Land Parcels 58, 78, 79, 14 August - Pompeia Primilla
Parcels 52, 54 - Carrier Pigeons
Land Parcel 640, 15 August - The Land Parcel of God
The Colonel Bravadida
Honoré d’Urfé - L’Astrée - Bathylle - Leda - Mr L’Escoussière - 26 July, Land Parcel 88
Xanthippe and Socrates - The Pear-trees - Land Parcel 85 bis, 27 July
The Fountain-basin-wash house - Land Parcel 1002, 28 July
The Garum - La Balmo - Land Parcel 998
Pierre Bayle - Toulouse Lautrec - Yvette Guilbert - Wednesday 30 July, Land Parcels 1017/1018
Abbé Breuil - Father Teilhard de Chardin - Prehistory - Elohin, Jahwe, God of Pity - Land Parcel 104, 1 August
A miner’s pick - 2 August
The Wild Boar - 2 August
Mr Fallacy - Land Parcels 87, 88, 89, 3 August
La Madelon - La Der-des-Ders (1914-1918) - Mr Limebrick - Massat - 4 August
The Farrier - Land Parcel 1002, 5 August
The Blacksmith - Mr Irjava-scriptter - Pepi’Stieni- Land Parcel 87, 7 August
The Mill of Malarnaud
Festos de Fouix (Festival of Foix), 8 September

Land Parcel 640, 15 August - The Land Parcel of God


           The parcel of God, one distinguishes it very clearly from the threshold of the house of Mr Fallacy. One sees its proud bell-tower of grey stones and the roof with the anti-slide tiles such as recently remade by the builder of Ninive for the Mirages/Mystères, patrolling above the border-crests, have the annoying habit of causing these tiles to slide. The presbytery is couched a little lower, nearly facing the house of the blacksmith, and looks at the former  tavern  which was  for a long time  kept by a solid  mustachioed of the Party who is supposed to - the story goes - have sheltered one of the mutineers of the Black Sea. The tavern does not shelter anybody any more. The presbytery was sold to vacationists.

           On a Saturday afternoon, the priest of a neighbouring parish comes, to say mass which the grandmothers of old sadly listen to while recalling to their memories the gestures of the abbé C. and his courteous way of dismissing them by a “ite missa est” and also the pranks of the abbé D. throwing his soutane into the nettles and with long betrousered strides embarking on the hunt for small birds...

            No necessity to conclude that the servants of God are scheming lovers of food and that they adore a booze when, isolated in their presbytery, they experience the need to see each other, to confide their disappointments and their pains, and when, four or five times a year, they receive with good fraternal hospitality the visit of confrères or when they participate in an ecclesiastic conference or when they uncork a bottle of white wine Gaillac doux, levied from the stock of a mass-wine not recalling, certainly no way, the old rough wines of the Vatican , alone capable of quenching the thirst of boozers, of libertins and of roguish cronies, and of all these pillars of the taverns,  these  “ibrouïgnos  damnats”  (damned boozers), so well denounced and condemned by Father Amilha,  canon of Pamios, in his good old pulpit of  Notre-Dame du  Camp  :   “Aprep la bouno chero e’ les bounis boucis, succedo la misero, les plours et les soucis, sourtin del cabaret deja mori de set...” (Good food and good mouthfuls are succeeded by the misery, tears and sorrows ; coming out of the tavern, already I am dying of thirst ...) 

           The evening angelus rings its brassen soprano ; in the distance the chimneys are smoking and the shadows which are falling from the mountains become larger. The son of the  blacksmith,  in order to round off his budget,  has accepted the position of a bell-ringer plus that of a grave-digger which he occupied already, while perhaps waiting to leave one day the anvil in favour of a School for zither, an instrument whose strings he artistically masters.

            The parcel of God lies next to the small acre of the Good God who only comes back to life at the call of the Last Services tintinnabulated  by  this  Vulcan junior : croak, croak, croag, croag, croa, croa, chant the crows while fleeing with wings spread out “far from the gallows where was suspended by his flesh the author of the flesh”, under the suspicious glance of Jasotte *, the girl with the blue apron, who can identify all the graves and whose miller’s son - and his Priapus * of a companion whose belly is dressed by nothing - weighs her breasts, (so she herself feels the globes of the beautiful blond german under the shower), in the expectation of this “pestle between the grains, which, laughing, she not disdains”.

*Jasotte. Cf : D’un Moulin l’autre
*Priapus or Priapos (ancient Greek) was a minor rustic fertility God, protector of livestock, fruit plant, gardens and male genitalia.

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