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.
Our barbecue – big old stone thing, built in to the terrace – is right next to the conservatory so, if the weather looks uncertain we just nip inside. I don’t know what’s going on with the weather at the moment – yesterday it was in the high 20s and reclining by the pool weather, today it’s pouring with rain and the fire is lit (my Mum’s here!!).
I sleep erratically too but it doesn’t seem to affect me too much the next day. I quite like a turgid dream now and again.
Love your son’s photo.
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It’s coldish here, too – still 3 layer weather. Does Mum have to be there to light the fire? If we’re chilly, we light the stove, full stop.
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People here are forgetting words that I never knew. 🙂
“Turgid”, tediously pompous or bombastic.
..
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swollen, congested; in spate, in flood
“a turgid and fast-moving river”
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If you can sleep despite turgid dreams, you are a warrior!
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we actually had SNOW yesterday and the mountains look whiter than before! It’s late spring-eeek.
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Wild winds, weird weather, weary weekend. :0)
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I’m slipping back into one of those sleep-scarcity periods at present. At least in doesn’t present itself as sleep insufficiency, though.
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A colorful photo that looks like a dream. It is nice to get a good sleep.
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I’m glad you slept. 🙂 6 hours is all I ever get anymore. Great photo! I love coming to read your work. You send me to the dictionary every time. My mind has lost so many words that it needs reminding they are still in there somewhere.
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turgid?
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Yes, that’s the one. Also had to look up feijoa from another blog this morning. I lost a lot of words when the Bells hit. Almost like a stroke and I have trouble putting sentences together in anything but basic form these days. It’s why I keep writing. To keep finding words in my brain. 6 years ago, I couldn’t finish a sentence. Some days are still like that. My son will tell me to finish the rest of the sentence but it takes awhile. I’m too young for this. ;(
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Poor you. But all sorts of things have disappeared from my brain, without the Bells intervetion!
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I have so much more to look forward to. I just got a head start. 🙂 It sure brings you down a peg from feeling you have it all handled.
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The bistro calls for a gar-ish picture? I like the thankful footnote to your six words!
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I had a picture but it is hiding somewhere on the computer and I can’t find it.
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A nasty habit pictures have, even with a meticulous filing system.
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which I don’t possess!
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🙂
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I love your son’s photo, and I’d be quite happy to bring a brolly along on a Tuesday, Viv. 🙂
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I have fond memories of eating there. This week has revolved around G and his adjustment, or lack thereof, to a change in bp medication.
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Oh dear. Changes in meds are often catastrophic, and I’ve had a few lately. I hope G soon adjusts.
love,
ViV
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thank you. I hope so too. this is really hard on his body.
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Love the mental image of Les Gars churning out that Australian classic, the barbie. Vachement drôle!
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Barbies (known as grillades) are commonplace here – just about every dwelling has a barbecue structure, simple or elaborately constructed and decorated, in their garden or on a balcony. But they don’t eat outside – weather here is too uncertain – the grillades are served at formal dining tables.
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