Le Poët-Laval

This, in the distance, is the medieval village of Le Poët-Laval, which centres around an old commanderie and castle of he Hospitaliers de Saint-Jean de Jérusalem, and which S’s grandfather saved from destruction, eventually renovating and leaving it in the impressive state in which it is now.

Up early for once, and managed to start on the New Zealand work pretty quickly. For most of the day, that is the best that can be said. Oh how I struggled with the job today: my eyes kept on wandering to the window, where the glorious sunshine was beating in over a perfect pastoral setting. At around 4, I said “bollocks to this” and decamped to the garden.

After apéritifs, I made a couscous, adding, in for the first time, a teaspoonful of Marmite as the stock. It gave a rather increased “umami” flavour – but was still nice enough.

Ottawacker Jr. had his physio appointment, which he probably didn’t need, but the opportunity to go to the physio rather than a maths class proved to hard to resist. He has sprained ligaments in the elbow, apparently, which explains the cracking. I am very relieved it hasn’t been dislocated – that would have been hard to overcome. So off he went to football practice again, a light skip in his gait.

Meanwhile in France, sat around talking to S over dinner, learned how to manipulate the fire, and watched Koh Lanta, which is apparently the French version of Survivor Island or something … which I also hadn’t watched before.