The suns goes down on the bathroom scales

I heard a story yesterday on Riviera Radio about what seemed to be a serious drugs bust with tragic consequences. It seems that a chap was brandishing a shot-gun and threatening his neighbours over in the Var.

He was distressed because he thought they were stealing his pot plants and was threatening to shoot them (the neighbours not the pot plants). The police were called and, when he pointed the gun at them the police shot him dead. My first thought was that those that live by the gun die by the gun, and that maybe the ganja he was cultivating was of a particularly “high” quality and he was understandably appalled by the prospect of having his stash raided by the local inhabitants. It crossed my mind that given his apparent  involvement with the drugs world perhaps he expected to die, but it turns out that he was seventy-five years old and the pot plants in question were lavender plants.  Summary justice French style.

A mild day yesterday ended in a spectacular sunset and it was mild enough to sit in the newly repaired pav in early evening for a calming glass of wine, from where I took this picture. A great sunset like this implies a few clouds in the area, so perhaps some hope for the local ski resorts?

Sunset over Valbonne, but who left that light on?

It is not often that the nice lady decorator and myself are in complete agreement, but it happened yesterday. The bathroom scales are charged with the unenviable task of monitoring the weight reduction process in which we are both involved at present. Eating almost nothing and increasing our daily exercise over the past 3 days has seen a considerable improvement in our respective shapes but we both expected support and confirmation from the weighing machine in the bathroom. It has refused to cooperate, and clearly deranged it is doggedly sticking to some readings from last week.

This is clearly a problem with the machine which is battery powered and has an electronic readout. I have tried talking to it, cuddling it, even stamping on it, but it refuses to cooperate, so there is nothing else for it, new batteries will be inserted (very roughly if I get my way) tomorrow, after which, if it fails to cooperate then more drastic action must be contemplated.

Tonight, all thoughts of diets, indeed of restraint of any kind will be cast to the wind as we embrace our first night out this week at the Red Radish secret supper. Jill Barber, an up and coming Canadian singer songwriter will be performing and as there is clearly a commercial element to the evening I shall be bringing with me my pull up poster proclaiming that signed copies of my book will be available to purchase for those very few locals that do not already own a copy. I shall not tell Wayne or Lucy in advance in case they are unhappy at the prospect, and my phone will be off all day so that I cannot be intercepted.

I shall also be checking to ensure that no one is still stuck in the unpleasant grasp of their banks when considering paying bills abroad or moving money around, although I think it might be considered a bit common to mention Currencies Direct out right.

MIDEM, the annual junket for us music biz types starts in just over a week in Cannes, so my presence will be required there for much of the week after next. In fact this will be the 32nd time I have attended, sufficient to gain a gold card membership which seems to entitle me to little more than free buses in Cannes. I can hardly wait.

Chris France