Pottering

I got up bright and early, and before it got too hot I'd made jam with the apricots I bought from a roadside stall on the way back from our blipmeet in Prades -- I always like to buy fruit when driving along that fruit-laden valley. I bought some greengages there too, which went into a tart earlier in the week (which we are still eating -- it was a big tart). And then I cooled off with 30 lengths of the pool.

It's been a very hot day -- after lunch we headed to Lagrasse where we visited our second marché aux potiers in a week. I found more items to tempt me this time, but I had left all my money at home! In fact the only pot we spent (virtual) money on doesn't exist yet.

Almost 20 years ago, when we first came here, we bought a lovely green medieval-looking wine jug made by a potter in Lagrasse. It served us well, but a year ago the handle snapped off. The potter is no longer alive, but his son still runs the workshop, so we called in and described the jug with its decorative finger-pressed strips. "Oh yes, I know the one," said the potter. "I've still got one in the workshop." He went off and came back with a blue one covered in a thick layer of dust. "We never sold this one because the base was cracked, but I've kept it all this time. Would you like me to make another one?" We happily agreed and made a date for the end of September. "No need for a deposit, just pay me when you collect it." That's the kind of service you don't get in Ikea :)

Outside we -- or rather I -- wandered around looking at pots, and then both of us had a beer. Here we met a local jazz singer who told us she was doing a musical apero in Fabrezan on Monday. Leaving her, we bumped into someone we used to work with, now retired, whom we haven't seen for ages, so we had a good chat. Then we went down to Lagrasse's little beach by the river. Of course it was crowded, being a summer Sunday, but we easily found a place in the shade since all the Anglo-Saxons were desperately trying to get a suntan. And the nice thing about this bathing spot is that the water gets deep very quickly. Most people, especially those with children, stay close to the beach, so you only have to swim 10 metres or so upstream to be alone, with plenty of space to swim. The water was absolutely blissful, and when I got out an English woman sitting near by spontaneously gave us a couple of slices of her watermelon.

We eventually set off home at about half past five but decided to have a glass of wine on the promenade first. While there we met friends A and C, who sat down for a drink with us. Home, then a very quickly made dinner of chicken livers with bacon, apple and mushrooms in a cider and cream sauce. So it was a nice pottering sort of day. Now chilling to the sound of Miles Davis.