Turgid dreams make a colourful night
but at least I slept.
image taken by my son, Robin James Smith
A quiet week, but for the high spot on Tuesday: a lunch with four old friends at the bistro in the village – les Gars-melles. The name is a pun, as it’s run by a couple of chaps (gars), and gamelle means a cooking pot. Tuesday is barbecue day – one of the gars stands on the pavement outside and cooks sausages, merguez, entrecôte steaks and pork chops. He has an umbrella on rainy days.
Otherwise, I’ve quilted most of this grey and chilly week. Good progress, but not enough to show you in a photo.