Paris, not Texas

The first day of my weekend, although like many of my weekend days, chores took up most of it. 

I got a lot done, however, so that is vaguely satisfying. 

Perhaps the greatest success was getting the grass cut just before the rain arrived. For once the forecast was accurate. I wanted to leave it as late as possible, to let it dry out after last night’s rain. 

Yes, it rains every day.

I also went looking in the cupboards for my autumn/winter sweaters, with some success.

The book clearance has started, and the local Shelter charity shop is the place to go if you are curious about my eclectic tastes in literature. No, thought not…

As expected, the worst happened. A postcard fell out of one of those paperbacks. It was sent to me from Sacré-Coeur in August 1985. I was best man at her sister’s wedding and she was a bridesmaid. You will have to guess the rest (a gentleman doesn’t tell). 

I doubt if she expected it to feature in a Blip 34 years later. 

I think Sacré-Coeur is the end point of this wee story.