Off to the fancy kitchen designers for the rescheduled meeting.
The fancy kitchen designer is late. The fancy builder later still.
A moment out of Jane Austen when Angus queries some of the items in the estimate. The designer has what might best be described 'a fit of the vapours'. He gasps for breath and reaches into his suede satchel for a pill. Not to be outdone the fancy builder throws a piece of paper onto the table. '' Oak isn't cheap ! My price is fixed. People love my wood, my craftsmanship, my style ". Meetings in the Anglo-Saxon world lack this element of drama.
An hour later we leave. Angus tries to explain the concept of a budget. Being France this is a novel, and unwelcome, idea. To calm troubled waters praise is heaped on the standard of their workmanship and design. 'The Font' raises an eyebrow when Angus informs the builder that the quality of his fittings are known around the world. The builder takes this as a compliment.
Home for a late lunch. Sophie and her brother get a walk down to the stream. They try their hand, ineptly, at fishing. Sophie yelps in frustration. Bob sploshes and sighs. Angus who rarely drinks a glass of wine at lunchtime, does.
Deposit paid, work on the ( much reduced in scope) kitchen will start in the atelier next week. Installation is promised for Easter. We shall see.
This morning I wake to the news a man I've known for more than twenty five years has been shot dead in Moscow. How lightly we take our freedoms.