Sent H a list of local establishments. We're both back on Day practically zero. Flost rang, they're on the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond, on the way to Fort William and Mull.
Kathleen on circles and sharing and gender neutral meetings. Use the talking stone in actual meetings (not just for the sharing bit). Andrew wanted to drop the share, I said I objected 'violently' (I wasn't actually violent, or shouty, I just think Andrew is uncomfortable with it, and it can't be controlled so he'd like to bin it - and he's still traumatised by the Rebecca incident).
My old CDs in the car - Charles Trenet, Joni Mitchell, Celtic Mood. But I almost prefer Cherie FM - no associations or nostalgie, just rather nice poppy music and I can practice my French trying to follow the lyrics.
Doing what I want. Stuart's book, or my Naxos stone - a present for Oscar.
I did something useful in the morning, but I can't remember what. Then after lunch Katherine and I went in to Vivonne to get some BBQ meat and bananas and tobacco and I managed to puncture both driver side tyres riding onto a very low kerb with a deep hole the other side of it. Slight chagrin (Andrew only punctured one) and puzzlement as to how to rescue ourselves. Basically I was gabbling to Katherine and not being very mindful of where the car was going (slowly, but the streets are quite narrow). Called Andrew, who miraculously answered his phone almost immediately, and asked him to bring my two spares from the Astra (and he had a third in his car, which fortunately is also a Citroen). One of them must fit I thought. Then K and I retired to Le Cigalon and the kind prop stored our Magna in his freezer and sausages in fridge, and served us drinks and we chatted to a nice party of 3 English ladies (they were ladies) on their way to a family reunion somewhere south of here. They had asked le patron for lunch but he said he was shut, it's Dimanche, so they toddled off to Super-U and bought themselves a picnic and sat outside his bar and drank his wine. Andrew and Delyth turned up, looking a bit fed up, but my plan worked and we got the Picasso home OK and the Magna hadn't melted. Now I have to find the French equivalent of a Qwik Fit and sort out two tyres on Monday after I've dropped K2 at the Gare.
We had a really nice BBQ - everything cooked, the last of my pork escalopes and the sausages, not burned, and a fine evening. I tasted (really) the white port, and then wondered why I thought that was necessary. It tasted like white port. And so to bed, after watching a youtube and TED talk about the Blue / Human Brain project, which K2's two sons are working on, which was interesting, but disturbing ('we can make a brain, just like a human brain, in software, and it works' - Ray Kurzweil here we come). And so to bed. Felt very tired this afternoon - too much bread? or just the stress and excitement of our little accident. And I seem to have a very distended diaphragm - not painful. Maybe it's just wind.
Kathleen on circles and sharing and gender neutral meetings. Use the talking stone in actual meetings (not just for the sharing bit). Andrew wanted to drop the share, I said I objected 'violently' (I wasn't actually violent, or shouty, I just think Andrew is uncomfortable with it, and it can't be controlled so he'd like to bin it - and he's still traumatised by the Rebecca incident).
My old CDs in the car - Charles Trenet, Joni Mitchell, Celtic Mood. But I almost prefer Cherie FM - no associations or nostalgie, just rather nice poppy music and I can practice my French trying to follow the lyrics.
Doing what I want. Stuart's book, or my Naxos stone - a present for Oscar.
I hear a cry, a raptor,
echoing Muloi and its valley.
the little house
filled with empty coffee cans;
that sad strange year
of loss and letting go.
all things arising, and passing away.
I did something useful in the morning, but I can't remember what. Then after lunch Katherine and I went in to Vivonne to get some BBQ meat and bananas and tobacco and I managed to puncture both driver side tyres riding onto a very low kerb with a deep hole the other side of it. Slight chagrin (Andrew only punctured one) and puzzlement as to how to rescue ourselves. Basically I was gabbling to Katherine and not being very mindful of where the car was going (slowly, but the streets are quite narrow). Called Andrew, who miraculously answered his phone almost immediately, and asked him to bring my two spares from the Astra (and he had a third in his car, which fortunately is also a Citroen). One of them must fit I thought. Then K and I retired to Le Cigalon and the kind prop stored our Magna in his freezer and sausages in fridge, and served us drinks and we chatted to a nice party of 3 English ladies (they were ladies) on their way to a family reunion somewhere south of here. They had asked le patron for lunch but he said he was shut, it's Dimanche, so they toddled off to Super-U and bought themselves a picnic and sat outside his bar and drank his wine. Andrew and Delyth turned up, looking a bit fed up, but my plan worked and we got the Picasso home OK and the Magna hadn't melted. Now I have to find the French equivalent of a Qwik Fit and sort out two tyres on Monday after I've dropped K2 at the Gare.
We had a really nice BBQ - everything cooked, the last of my pork escalopes and the sausages, not burned, and a fine evening. I tasted (really) the white port, and then wondered why I thought that was necessary. It tasted like white port. And so to bed, after watching a youtube and TED talk about the Blue / Human Brain project, which K2's two sons are working on, which was interesting, but disturbing ('we can make a brain, just like a human brain, in software, and it works' - Ray Kurzweil here we come). And so to bed. Felt very tired this afternoon - too much bread? or just the stress and excitement of our little accident. And I seem to have a very distended diaphragm - not painful. Maybe it's just wind.
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