‘Tis a damp Thursday in August. Veering towards the end of August. 24th. Parents will be starting to think about offloading their offspring back into the education system, some for the first time. Mixed emotions. A sigh of relief for most. Tense excitement for newbies.
Dampness is par for the course. I’m just glad I was able to get the shed sprayed yesterday. All is well in the jardin des Davies.
The roof of the shed is under continuous bombardment with acorns from the holm oak above. This will continue well into the autumn. Keeps the squirrel population going, unfortunately. I daresay squirrels serve a useful purpose in the food chain/ecosystem. The bombardment is more bemusing than a nuisance.
At eleven forty four I’m thinking of life, the universe and lunch. I also need to pop into town to go to the bank. Bit of a nuisance but sometimes it’s the only way to get some stuff done.
…
The dampness fled for friendlier parts. I am now sat in ‘t shed with doors wide open. Quite a bit of traffic noise, mitigated to some extent by some calming classical music toons emanating from my speakers. I sense it will soon be time to change the mood to upbeat.
Spent some time sorting out the rugby tickets for Nice. We will be there for a week, taking in Wales v Portugal and Italy v Uruguay together with immersion in some Cote d’Azur culture. Vin, pain et Picasso. That sort of thing.
The games we are seeing are scheduled at a very respectable five forty five pm. This means a leisurely lunch easing into the time we need to set off for the stadium. Not totes worked out the logistics yet but sure it will be fine.
In an ideal world we would grab a cab back to the campsite but suspect that is a bit pie in the sky with tens of thousands of punters leaving the stadium at the same time. Probs want a few sherbs before heading back anyway.