Wednesday, July 10, 2013
You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
Six months old. We'll celebrate by adding some sea bream to their kibbles. Maybe some peach yoghurt to finish ?
Bob continues to grow. He towers over his sister. A PON on stilts look . His weight seems to have finally stabilized at 19 kilos, Sophie at 16 1/2. Stitches out tomorrow .
'The font' takes the dilatory builders on a tour of the house pointing out the things that MUST be done before they go. '' That'll be no problem . No problem at all " says the chief honcho with well practised charm. He agrees to return in September to do all the other things he was supposed to do in June.
Seven fifteen in the evening. A delegation of villagers arrive at the front gate. The mayor, his deputy, the lady with the Marge Simpson beehive hairdo and the man in the yellow fluorescent jacket that does 'interventions'. The local bank had agreed to print the posters for the pottery fair. The mayor has been to check up on the printings progress. He's discovered that the bank manager has gone away on holiday and no one in the branch knows anything about printing posters. The manager returns in mid-August. The fair is the beginning of August. A glass of Corsican rose and they're feeling more confident. 'The font' will design a poster and I'll get them printed. The lady with the beehive hairdo sighs then wipes her index finger across her mouth and says '' this wine is very good ". Cue for another glass.
Life as a foreigner in a village in deepest, deepest France profonde.