Only been in bed for three days and I wake to find the town transformed. Christmas decorations are in the street, some of them not the ones from previous years; this curious artwork has emerged near Roy and Jo's; and its really really cold. Frost on the tiles, ice on the puddles. Given it ain't December yet, this is ominous.
LATER; it brightened up - here's the little Thursday market, dinky and a good source of organic fruit and vedg. Currently steeping little limes for a cordial.
and in the cafe Relais Occitan who should I find but Ann and Kieran. Kieran, as can be seen below, is sporting a splendid facial caterpillar. It seems that this occurs every November, in memory of a friend who lost his life to prostate cancer; he goes a -fundraising this month. Prepare for a whipround, folks.
Much talk of the virus that has hit me - it has been experienced by most. Ole-Bendick says he shook it off after 36 hours of near-death but then, he added, he 'is not quite human.' Yerrrssss. Quite.
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