"Blimey...hope mine isn't going to blow up!"
A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog about exploding henhouses. It turns out I got some of the facts wrong.
My sister didn’t believe me
Last week, we went to visit my uncle Georges (88) and his wife, my aunt Marie (84) in Toulon (my hometown). Both are still mentally sharp. The day before, I had talked to my sister about the exploding henhouse incident. She did not know anything about it. She, in fact, expressed some doubt about the whole story!
Visit to Toulon
So, the next afternoon we went to the old family house where uncle Georges and auntie Marie live. After a while, I asked my auntie what she remembered of the crate of grenades exploding in her henhouse while she was feeding her hens.
She had no idea
“What are you talking about?” she asked? She did not know anything about the grenades. So, I explained to her the whole story: my mother asked my two uncles (one of them being uncle Georges) to get rid of a crate of grenades my late father used to keep under the matrimonial bed during the war, years ago.
“Is this true?” she asked
After I finished relating this strange episode, my auntie turned to my uncle to ask if this was true. With a wry smile, he nodded. My auntie was absolutely flabbergasted. So was my sister, my wife, my cousin Andre (uncle Georges’ and auntie Marie’s son), and myself.
It seems that my uncle Georges never told the truth about the exploding henhouse to my auntie Marie. But even more surprising, for over 50 years, it seems that my auntie Marie thought that her exploding henhouse had been a natural phenomenon!
How weird is that? How could you live most of your life thinking that henhouses can spontaneously explode?
Just a thought -there’s still no news of the gun my uncle Georges also agreed to get rid of as a favour to my mother…