It's Me, Sara Louise

You see, the week before we left for Texas, The Honey house was robbed. They were out working with the bees and came home to find that some jewellery and money had been stolen (and let me tell you, there can be a lot of money in honey). But here’s the thing, because of how it was done (not going to go into details here) we all kind of assumed it was an inside job, because the burglars seemed like they would have had to have known certain things to pull it off. 

But then, last week, a holiday home down the road was robbed. Coincidence perhaps? Maybe not.

Fast forward to yesterday… a gendarme (police to you and me) helicopter was hovering over Le Petit Village (or as I like to call it, a ghetto bird). And because that is definitely not a regular occurrence, I had to go out and see what was the what (along with the majority of other villagers as well… we’re a nosey bunch). 

So this is the what what… four men were spotted attempting to break into a house (a house that belongs to the nephew-by-marriage of my friend The Croupier’s Aunt… got that? Good). And because some gendarme already happened to be in the area, they were on hand to nab the burglars (get this… there has been some crazy, drunk hobo wondering our little streets for the past couple of days, and the gendarme were called in to shoo him away… I swear it’s true. I couldn’t make this nonsense up if I tried). But they only nabbed two of the burglars, the other two made a run for it. One ran into the old village and was soon caught (I’m sure with the help of Medieval Banshee that lives in there) and another ran into the woods. That’s when the ghetto bird was called in. 

But here’s the fun part. Not only was this man being stalked by the ghetto bird, and the roads in and out of the Le Petit Village blocked by the gendarme (it really must have been a slow crime day in France), but all of the local hunters decided that instead of hunting boar, they would do a little burglar hunting. So off they went into the woods with their guns and their dogs, and more than likely, their pastis too. And do you want to know who went with him? Papa did that’s who. Along with the brand new Texas Ranger badge with his name on it, pinned to his hunting vest (he thinks he’s been deputized, he really really does, I don’t have the heart to tell him it was a $5 souvenir from the Towers of America gift shop). 

If I was that burglar, I’d hope the gendarme found me first. 

And here’s my two cents… I’m kind of thinking that this band of burglars has been on the prowl casing the village for quite awhile and it was them that got the Honey house because they were just super prepared and here’s why… back in April, the day before The Husband and I left to go up to French Mommy’s for Easter, there was a knock on the door. Fifty starting going nutty, barking his little head off (a bit more than usual to be honest) so instead of opening the door I pulled back the curtain and could see a strange man standing there (strange as in I had never seen him before, not necessarily that he was weird, and we don’t usually see ‘strange’ people in these parts, except for tourists). I motioned for him to wait and kept the curtain pulled long enough for him to see an angry, going berserk, Fifty. I went over to the window, stuck my head out, and asked him what he wanted. He said he was selling calendars. 

Hmmm… strange man with accent that comes from a place far more east than France, selling calendars four months into the year, door to door in Le Petit Village. Yeah, nothing suspicious about that at all. 

I’m pretty sure that the strange man took one look at Fifty and crossed us off the burglarising list. 

So in my mind, Fifty totally saved the day.

At least my jewellery anyway.

bisou

P.S. Before I left for Easter at French Mommy’s, I did let the Mairie (aka the town hall) know about the strange calendar selling man. 

P.P.S. The last remaining burglar was nabbed but I don’t have the scoop yet on whether it was by the gendarme or the hunting party. As soon as I find out, I’ll update my Facebook page.