A couple of weeks ago when J and I went off to
Well, hard as we looked in the miniscule supermarket at Latte (just over the border into
Let me explain. Yesterday was Antonio’s 70th birthday party and honour of honour our family were invited. Antonio was the guy who painstakingly, over 5 years, built our new house and during those 5 years became a friend rather than just a builder. We’ve celebrated many drinks and cigarettes over the years and J has previously made birthday cakes for him and his workers and supplied them with copious amounts of chilled water during the hot summers. The local police have marched him off the site (of our new house) and we’ve crashed our cars into each others. Shadow regularly used to pinch his lunch sandwiches from the builder’s hut and there were times when my money wasn’t coming through quickly enough from the
So yesterday, Martine his wife, invited us to their house for a surprise birthday party. Antonio was dragged off to
It was quite an honour to be invited and it was probably a unique event as most Brits are suing their French builders rather than having lunch with them! Anyway, it was a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon with delicious Italian food and plentiful supplies of wine. Fortunately, (or unfortunately ?), I was sitting next to a French chap who said he needed to drink lots of red wine to alleviate the problems of his heart complaint so every time he poured one for himself he filled my glass too! ‘C’est mon coeur. C’est mon coeur’. ‘It’s my heart. It’s my heart’, he would say as he emptied yet another bottle of red wine into our glasses.
It was a great afternoon. The weather held up and I longed to bring