Jolly green giant delays appearance

As it turns out, a tee off time of 8.30 at this time of the year ensured that it was just a bit too chilly to wear my lime green made-to-measure golf ensemble today. This in no way can be attributed either to the secretary of the REGS, who are staging their end of year event and lunch today at Le Grande Bastide, or specifically the secretary Brian Clark’s seeming aversion to bright colours on the golf course, nor to that nice lady decorator who I saw describe me in an email yesterday in connection with this splendid attire as “The Jolly Green Giant”. Insults like this are like water off a ducks back. I will not be downcast and I will use the fortitude exhibited by my style guru Mr Humphrey’s which he often  uses when faced with people who do not understand style and individuality.

That nice lady decorator intends flying to the UK on Monday for a spot of Christmas shopping which means that she will miss the Currencies Direct Christmas Market at Sophia Antipolis this coming Tuesday. This must mean that she has enough signed copies of my book for her own needs and is generously allowing other people to get the opportunity to buy a signed copy from me on Tuesday.  She has been a little under the weather since we returned, a touch of African tummy if I am not mistaken, but it did remind me of this sign that I saw when in Watamu in Kenya last week.

Wise words indeed.

Yesterday, Tony “I invented the internet” Coombs kindly came around to fix the internet again. I asked why he invented something that was patently so fallible but answer came there none.  Perhaps its fallibility is the reason he refused to take the credit for its invention? Talking of fallibility, I see I had the usual long boring argument in my comments section during the week from The Reverend Jeff, it always seems like good fun to goad him but as soon as I have read the first sentence (being the operative word) of any response I begin to lose the will to live and want to slash my wrists. Christmas is of course named after me and is a time for fun and parties, it is only ever dragged down by those religious sorts. It’s a bit like The France Show at Earls Court in mid January, a big celebration in my name.

Last night to dinner with Roly and Leslie Bufton with several others. Having  decided to knock down a perfectly good house, they have rented the house next door whilst they build their palace complete with lifts, which after an exhausting days gardening I could have done with myself yesterday afternoon.

So with the house to myself for the next few days I was hoping for some invitations to be thoroughly badly behaved but all the really bad boys are all away at the moment so I have accepted an invitation this week to probably a very well-behaved event, the English Book Centre Staff Christmas lunch at La Pomme Rouge Deli in Valbonne. It seems that because of the repeated signing sessions for my book, “Summer In The Cote d’Azur,”, the next one is on Friday 16th between 11 and 12, that I am now considered staff. I am sure this will be a nice Christmas event, but what I had in mind was an invitation to the naked politicians new lap dancing club. He is not the owner of the club, just the building, but knowing him I am sure there was a complimentary life membership in the negotiation but when the Book Centre invitation arrived instead I was actually relieved. I must be getting old.

Chris France