(Prestartum: This post was written two days ago, and the last two posts before that. And I meant to post them all yesterday, but we spent too long at the water park – domage. We’re getting the Interweb at home soon…)
I know I’ve posted today already, but it’s been a while and the kids are asleep.
We love this house.
It’s not only a few hundred yards (metres) from our land, so we can (and have) start (ed) working on it, it’s also a very few metres (yards) from the wine shop (two and a half euros for one and a half litres of very drinkable Bergerac), two butchers, two supermarkets, a square with two cafés, the launderette, pizza place and every other convenience a 13th Century Bastide town can offer.
My morning routine, instead of ablute, scoot, commute, is ask what the family wants for breakfast, walk (aware that I am still some weeks or months from strolling) the few dozen paces for ingredients and return, with a warm and bagged baguette, in almost no time.
If you’re reading this on Monday (and I have to wait until the afternoon to post it), you may want to think badly of me.
Wait until I tell you it’s stopped raining. And today it was too hot to do much except lie in the hammock in the back yard and read a copy of yesterday’s Guardian.
So feel free to call me any name under the sun.
(Addendum: It’s raining today. But that stormy light rain you only get when it’s been – and will probably continue to be – seriously hot.)