back in the flow

 Got back last night - BTW, discovering something worse than Stanstead airport: to whit, Manchester. Don't go there.

Here's Fleche, the dog of the Relais Occitan, who lives mostly on the biscuits they give you with coffee.
He has got fatter since I've been gone.

Then there was breakfast with Ole-Bendik whom I was relying on for the gossip. He tells me that the weekends' drawing fest was marred by Lotto, held in the hall of the centre cultural underneath the large and light filled room used by artists for drawing from the life. Lotto is like bingo only louder, harder fought on account of the prizes are sides of ham and so forth - food dear to the hearts of the French. A big part of French rural culture.
So probably not a fine opportunity for Aileen to try and wrestle the microphone from the caller...
insults were hurled and repercussions linger.

Thence to lunch: Maggie Hailer with her eldest (whose name I can't spell) did me and Bob the honour of joining us. Maggie and her husband Adrian lived at Ramunichoux for many years until Adrians' illness overtook him, alas. We hope that it might be possible for him to visit us in the summer - he is much loved.

The source of my other news is Isobelle at the 8 a 8. She tells sad tales. The Abbe Bigot, Catholic priest to the town since the expulsion from Eden, has died. Not unexpected given his age (he was 87), though sad another link with the past is lost.

On the same day Francis Marty died. He had been wrestling lung cancer for a while - looking successful too, until quite recently. Condolences to Helene and their children. Hard to bear such a loss and at such a young age - he was 57. All who know Helene will send their love.

That's the last time I go away!