Doll's house

So the Fever Wave picked me up, carried me an exhilarating while then broke and washed me up, disheveled,  on the shores of Christmas afternoon.

My crystal clear mind soon got to the bottom of why there was no wine in the house. Gab and Isaac had invented a drinking game which involved watching 1950's concerts of Albert King playing the Blues and drinking a shot every time Albert  put on a 'Blues Face'.  They perfected this game over the following nights; every time Springsteen does a thing with his eyebrow in Adam Made a Cain, every time Shane McGowan shows his teeth, every time Stevie Ray Vaughan breaks a string and is handed another guitar and so on.  

Their day time entertainment was more sober, existing entirely of documentaries about NATO and testing each other on their knowledge of Eastern Block flags.

Mitou rang to ask if we wanted to help them finish up the leftovers.  Having not eaten a thing for the past 3 days it seemed like a plan and I heaved my skinny, achy body to Le Bosc and revived it with Mitou's Foie gras, gravalax, turkey and cèpe stuffing, washed down with some good Cobières and I began to feel like I was living again.