Painting, and decorating

Clearly, after a summer of usage , well three weeks, of all the garden equipment by rental clients, it is important to check rigorously to ensure that everything is in working order. Yesterday morning I decided to give the hammock a full work out and I am pleased to report that despite a few marks, it is operating well, quite up to expectations.

Today, after an early round of golf and I fully expect, the collection of 10 Euros from Charles the spy, followed by lunch at Chateau Begude, I have singled out some of the pool loungers for special attention. I was going to return to work, promoting the services of Currencies Direct, but the sudden arrival of friends on their way to a holiday in France has delayed my return to work for a day, so I will not be mentioning their wonderful services until Tuesday at the earliest.

I still have a few photographs from our trip to the north of England and I show one of them today. It is off a pub called Off The Wall, where one of the letters has fallen off the wall, as if in silent illustration of its name.

This must be a very off the wall pub. Note the up to the minute northern architecture

So back into Valbonne life and I have an email from Mr Humphreys, who is free, as he usually is, having eschewed gainful employment, and enjoying his stature as a magistrate (although how he manages to ply his “trade” whilst living in France is a bit of a mystery). He tells me that his gorgeous wife Helen has a new exhibition of her paintings in Valbonne. Some of her pictures can be seen in advance on her website.

It seems that we have something in common, Mr Humphreys and I; we have both sent our respective partners back to work to try to keep us in the manner to which we would like to become accustomed with painting as a theme. In my case I have added “and decorating” to that nice lady decorators title.

Last night after the arrival of Charles the spy and his entourage, it was necessary to check out if the web and the pav had suffered any ill effects, and to check that the rose wine  had not deteriorated or changed character whilst we had been away.

Charles the spy, and his delectable wife Lizzy duly descended upon us at around 5pm and were immediately enticed into a glass of rose. Accompanied as they were by teenage children, who made an immediate bond with our teenage children,  together, fuelled by copious amounts of rose, they took to the pool, which seemed to give them an extra thirst. This of course had to be satisfied, to the extent that my entire stock of rose, some 20 bottles, were no longer in existence by midnight, by which time that occasional darkening of mood so renowned in that nice lady decorator was in full evidence. Thus I retired to bed before the darkening became too pronounced.

It is essential that I am on top form today to ensure I collect the 10 euros from Charles the spy, so-called because no one understands what he does  and the explanations are so boring that they seem designed to ensure that no one ever asks a question, thus it is fairly certain that he is a spy. We will be playing at Chateau Begude and I have spent last  evening trying to persuade Charles to take a driver with him. He is so aristocratic, he thought I meant a chauffeur.

Chris France