Well, we made it, my brother P and I, with our combined ages of 171 years. We had a lovely week in Normandy without ending up in A and E, or losing vital objects, or even getting seriously lost, though my navigational skills are not good. We drove around the quiet countryside with its sleepy creamy coloured cows and no people (where are all the dogwalkers?) and eventually found our way to our gite which was homely and comfortable. We struggled to make things work like the oven, the heaters the telly and DVD player but P coped manfully. We enjoyed the good French food in the markets (why does it look and taste so much better than in England?) and just the wonderful Frenchness of it all. Of course it was a great help that P speaks French like a native.
We read a poem to each other at breakfast (a habit I picked up from the Scotts in Kendal) and I read a brilliant book, The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt. and we watched some good films too from the collection in the cottage: Life of Pi, Marigold Hotel, Salmon Fishing on the Yemen.
B Wiggins had a good time with daughter J and family. He went walking with them on the Dorset coast ,12 miles one day. He seems pleased to back in Ditchling with all the familiar smalls on every tree and lamp post on our slow walks round the lanes and village. I missed him and I am glad to have his warm shape on the sofa beside me as I write this.
It is good to be home too though I made the mistake of buying several types of cheese which is stinking the bungalow out in spite of its being wrapped up well and kept in the fridge.When will I ever learn?