remembered, forgotten...

Forgot to photograph dinner here with Micheal and Barbara which was a lovely evening. I'm writing about it so I won't forget it totally, what with the brain getting more whimsical daily... what was I saying?
---It was the first day we were foreigners here. All rather down, though dealing with it maturely of course. I made a suet steak and mushroom pudding and a trifle, a memory of our young days when we all believed we were Europeans, before we joined legally. We return to that innocent state. Jaded.

 Here's my letter from the mayor telling me I no longer have the right to vote here. Given the amount we pay in taxes here you might suppose we could have a say in the running of the place.
Deep breath...

Here's the market yesterday, shrouded in the mornings mist.

and here's dear Madame Leaner [spelling???] who has taken a tumble and broken her collar bone and arm. Shes in her 90's so not great news but she's happily trotting about - we all wish her well, pronto -

The afternoon was baking, comparatively speaking. Peter Dunn and I embraced  the humiliation of watercolour landscape painting. He's mastering the dark art a lot quicker than I am.