Taking Attie to the station. A good sleep - lights out 10:22, woke up 5:20. Reading the Rule in bed with my tea. Thinking about obedience.
Nice email from Susanne, about her multi-dimensional Christina. Needs a long reply.
Dropped Attie off (but her train was cancelled - another grève day, seems a bit random now, are they getting desperate?) - Patrick Gormally said the strikes were not very popular with the publique, unlike when Sarkozy was in power. He says the French are all children of the State, and are very worried about being privatised. I wasn't sure what his view was - whether or not it was all a good or bad thing - I think quite a lot of people in the UK would like to be children of the State, if that meant they were looked after. He did say that SNCF couldn't be privatised (and Macron says it won't be) because it has such a huge debt - all those lovely TGVs are a lot more expensive than RyanAir and a few airports, or buses going up and down the peages.
Sausages for lunch. Susanna wouldn't let me cook them properly. With Colman's. Thomas tried some. No comment.
I broke a huge mirror getting the trestle table tops out. I said to myself 'seven year's bad luck' before I shifted it and then a tiny clunk as I set it down and the top half shattered. Stupid ego, not asking for help. I expect Jean Christophe will be pissed off. That should be the title for the story of Bonnevaux - 'Jean Christophe will be pissed off'. Still that's only another 7 years to add to the 65 or so actual and metaphorical mirrors I've broken in my life, and no complaints so far (on my account anyway, can't speak for my nearest and dearest).
Sitting outside Costaloadamoney waiting for it to open, without my tobacco, dutifully left back in the caravan. Seeking sacs pour sable (not de sable). Susanna has prescribed me a daily dose of magnesium.
A busy, useful day (hence no blog updates since Monday!) but I cocked up bedtime and didn't go to sleep until after 11. Farting about on this in the dark outside the kitchen. Susanna told me off.
Nice email from Susanne, about her multi-dimensional Christina. Needs a long reply.
Dropped Attie off (but her train was cancelled - another grève day, seems a bit random now, are they getting desperate?) - Patrick Gormally said the strikes were not very popular with the publique, unlike when Sarkozy was in power. He says the French are all children of the State, and are very worried about being privatised. I wasn't sure what his view was - whether or not it was all a good or bad thing - I think quite a lot of people in the UK would like to be children of the State, if that meant they were looked after. He did say that SNCF couldn't be privatised (and Macron says it won't be) because it has such a huge debt - all those lovely TGVs are a lot more expensive than RyanAir and a few airports, or buses going up and down the peages.
Sausages for lunch. Susanna wouldn't let me cook them properly. With Colman's. Thomas tried some. No comment.
I broke a huge mirror getting the trestle table tops out. I said to myself 'seven year's bad luck' before I shifted it and then a tiny clunk as I set it down and the top half shattered. Stupid ego, not asking for help. I expect Jean Christophe will be pissed off. That should be the title for the story of Bonnevaux - 'Jean Christophe will be pissed off'. Still that's only another 7 years to add to the 65 or so actual and metaphorical mirrors I've broken in my life, and no complaints so far (on my account anyway, can't speak for my nearest and dearest).
Sitting outside Costaloadamoney waiting for it to open, without my tobacco, dutifully left back in the caravan. Seeking sacs pour sable (not de sable). Susanna has prescribed me a daily dose of magnesium.
A busy, useful day (hence no blog updates since Monday!) but I cocked up bedtime and didn't go to sleep until after 11. Farting about on this in the dark outside the kitchen. Susanna told me off.
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