Sunday 30th August 2020

Sunday.

Last Sunday in August, middle day of a three day weekend, and it is so cold we have to put the heating on.

Not only is it cold, it is cloudy too, light very flat. I have no urge to go out to take shots.

So I don't.

Life has settled down, and apart from the occasional hissing fit between the older cats and kittens, the only downside is Cleo who is still pooing inside, on the crpet, under a bed, anywhere except in the litter box or outside. We are hoping she grows out of it. Soon. In the meantime we keep an eye on her and try to clean the accident away before the smell gets too bad. Other than that, they are a delight, during the day we can't get near them to hold or hug, but they like to play, especially with a piece of rolled up silver paper as it doesn't roll as freely as a ping pong ball. Cleo will play for ages with that, and for Poppy I have tied a catnip infused plush fish on a piece of string, and we play with that for ages, making Poppy just three feet in the air, doing cartwheels.

Some nice bread to go with the cheese would be good. Says Jools.

So, I Google how to make "proper" baguettes, and find one. So I make a batch of dough through the morning, have them in the oven at eleven, and done by half past, so we could have lunch before midday, when Le Tour was due to begin. I missed the first day, but with the second stage being in mountains, it would be good. Or should be.

The bread was fabulous, almost as good as from No Name Shop, and went so well with the strong cheese and glass of tripel. OK, it was early, but I should be able to stay awake through the afternoon.

I take my place on the sofa and watch the rolling start, then luxuriate in the wonderful countryside as the race headed along a long deep valley before beginning to climb. Small villages clung to hillsides, like on the edge of a huge rock knife. I could live there, I thought, more than once.

The race goes up, over one mountain, down the other side, through an attractive town before climbing up a mountain the other side of the river. Once at the top, down again, and back to Nice, round the town twice and fin.

Nice looks nice. I could love there too.

Just a shame that Brexit is taking the opportunity away from us. We can only stay in France for three months at a time from January, another one of them Brexit bonuses.

Dinner was that old favourite, chorizo hash, which always goes down well. I wash it down with the remaining half of the tripel.

Lovely.

But that was it, even though the sun came out and it warmed up, too cold to go outside, so we listen to the radio until just gone nine.