Life In 79

Visiting Bordeaux, the city of wine, during sober October was foolhardy, to say the least. We usually head north when leaping in the car with a bag packed, so turning right on to the D938 was a novelty. The weather forcast was terrible, but we were determined to make the best of it.   The two and a half hours in the car flew by compared with the usual six hours to the   Tunnel sous la Manche .  I was feeling guilty that I had twisted Anna's arm into booking a rather 'basic' hotel, which was a lot cheaper than her booking of choice. So was apprehensive. The hotel was marketed as an environmentally friendly establishment, which meant their was a communal pot of apricot jam at breakfast, the toilet paper was an off white colour, you only got one pillow and the room resembled a rather nice prison cell. I embraced the marmalade and loo paper, but one pillow!   After much apologising it was time to do some exploring. Our hotel/hostel was on the east bank, opposite the main...

Noah had forty days and forty nights of rain. Well, he got off lightly. It hasn’t stopped chucking it down for what feels like weeks. My wellies are full of water when I venture outside, the grass is like a paddy field and very slippery I have discovered, as I went into some forced splits on my way to the post box. But to look on the bright side the pond has never been so full and the drainage channel I dug last year to guide water away from our back door is working a treat. I can stand for hours watching the water as it whizzes down my flume.  Life can seem like a long list of things to fix and mend. Particularly living with Anna who is not known for her delicate touch. I wince every night as I hear her yanking the curtains shut. We don’t own a cup or mug that isn’t chipped. I am the tortoise to her hare. Slowly, slowly catchy monkey. Some jobs are lovely and fill one with a sense of pride when complete. Some jobs are infuriating and will send me into an apoplectic rage, like Basi...