Horses

The races are on
He watches --
His tattoo's for luck

Tune.

My usual foray into the village in the early morning. Not! I do have a lack of sleep to make up for. As a consequence I was only there at about 10.30 and it was not the same crowd as I see when I get there earlier. The horse race punters were there, nervously drinking coffee while watching their fortunes dwindle.

His matching shirt and eyes drew me.

Before lunch, a talk to the neighbours who had considered selling their house to go back to England (they're more than 70 and she wouldn't want to be left alone in the hamlet if he came to pass before her). However, the rate of the pound to the euro is really not in their favour at the moment (it's gotten worse with the recent general elections results) so they're putting their project off for the moment. Listened to mild gossip, had news from a previous neighbour who went back to Wales after her husband (who used to do our gardening for us here) died. Village life. I like it.