Had along chat with Jeannette yesterday. She's been keeping a low profile because she has sciatica. I understand completely; it's the pits. She was also telling me all about our neighbors across the street (in rapid Occitan/French, so I didn't catch a lot of it), and it is juicy. I am not going to disclose it here. I also commented that the lady does more laundry than anybody else I've ever seen, considering that it's just the two adults living there. To which Jeannette said, it's not all laundry; she always has a sheet or blanket positioned down there so Jeannette can't see into their kitchen. It's true; she showed me. He's been out a lot lately in his new "quad", which is basically a motorcycle for old men, with four wheels.
Our flight across the Atlantic on Wednesday is on Delta, not Air France, so food is in order. We're taking some of that wonderful pate en croute from the butcher in Lalinde, and also some smoked salmon sandwiches. For lunch today we had leftover new potatoes, lentilles de Puy (from the butcher) and stuffed tomatoes (also from the butcher). We're going to the night market at Cadouin tonight, and I do hope the oyster guy is there this time. Last time I had to make do with moules frites. Sad, isn't it.
I still have to visit the Mairie and tell them to include us in the sewer when they put the line through, and go get this key redone. And wash more clothes. And pack. And finish cleaning out the fridge. Ugh. And buy some Reblochon (for Martin) and Roquefort (for us) to take back to the US. I decided not to try to smuggle fresh foie gras into the US.
No comments:
Post a Comment