I wish I could do it justice. Imagine a keen foreign photographer, yours truly, sat at his kitchen table. With a beer. And a farmer. Who also has a beer. It's a scene that has been played out often. Frequently. Weekly even. Except that this time is different. We discuss the merits or otherwise of ASM (Clermont-Ferrand's rugby team) in the recent top 14 final. It is ASM's 10th final. And their 3rd in a row. And they came 2nd again. So there's a lot to talk about. Which is good, you understand. Because all the while I'm wondering how exactly I'm going to broach the subject of flies. How exactly am I going to ask him if he minds me putting bath oil and essential oils on his cows. The reason is clear enough to me. Very persuasive even. But I'm not sure he's going to even get to wondering why. And even then. Flies kind of go with the territory as far as he's concerned. So I think of this phrase and that. Of starting in a round about way. For quite a long time. Which is also good, because it gives us both the time to start another beer. And to get some way through it.
So when I finally broach the subject, he doesn't laugh. There is a very very long pause however. Long enough that I have plenty of time to wish that he had laughed instead. But, after a few deep breaths, he asks me one or two questions. And it looks like it might be alright. So he leaves, a beer or two better off, muttering about eucalyptus and citronella, bath oil and flies, and climbs into his car and disappears over the hill.
I'm still waiting for his reply. I don't know if I could start the same conversation again.
So I have tried a bit of photoshopping. And, amateur as I am, I think it might just work.
But to be honest, I really want to plaster his cows in essential oils now. Just so I can say I did. You understand don't you?