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Like a Jaggar to my heart

August 3, 2013

So lunch was taken in Valbonne Square at the Auberge Provençal, a favoured sheltered summer position in the shade on the southern side of this lovely Provençal village square. I would have preferred to have saved myself 90 euros and watched the cricket, but it is not as entertaining when Australia are doing well, so, on balance, it was money well spent. Whilst lunching, That Nice Lady Decorator actually said that she preferred me across the table. I am afraid I cannot remember exactly in which context she made this remark but am afraid that I was ungallant enough to misinterpret that comment and suggest a different context from that in which the comment was undoubtedly made. I am sure that the application of bandages and Savlon will be enough to repair the damage and that I will make a full recovery in the next few weeks, once the bruises have gone down.

As no day can go by without our planning to attend at least two social occasions in any 24 hour period , it was perhaps inevitable that, upon hearing that there was a Rolling Stones tribute band due to play at nearly Le Rouret last evening, we would plan to be there to witness it. However an astonishing thing happened. That Nice Lady Party Animal hit a brick wall and could not be roused from her siesta. Normally, it is I who is dragged, metaphorically screaming, from my siesta pit to be subjected to whatever social occasion she has in store for me, so it was a bit of a surprise that she should conk out whilst I was hale and hearty, although after a large beer and three carafes of vin blanc at lunchtime, a normal person would expect as much.

Thus last night I was beginning to think I would spend quietly, contemplating the infinite, and the infinite benefits of having an account with Currencies Direct, over a small glass of wine and fine cigar, alone in the pav, and do you know what? Had that been the case then there would have been no arguments or disagreements at all!

sunny France

Sunset off Cannes

Then, just as dusk was getting a grip, She emerged from the house, having scrubbed up quite well, and announced that we were, indeed, going to see the French Mick Jaggar impersonator.

Today has a distinctly Indian theme. A buffet prepared by the Kashmir Indian restaurant in Valbonne has been commissioned to help celebrate Roly Bufton’s birthday. He is coy about his exact age, mumbling something about early 60’s but I think that was when retired. I would put him in his early 90’s but he is very sprightly for that. When I was first told there was to be an Indian theme I began collecting feathers so that I could make an Indian head dress but then I thought about the buffet and thought I might be very happy to see off an Indian, so my thoughts turned to more of a John Wayne look ( although i will never get that mincing walk). As it stands I am stuck between the two. Guns or feathers? Sound like the name of a band.

Then on Sunday, because it has been so quiet and we have done so little socialising recently (irony), we have decided to have a lunch at ours. When I say we, I found out about our decision when I overheard a telephone conversation inviting someone to said lunch (I know not who). Doubtless I shall receive my instructions in due course as to the provisioning of this event, to which I have high hopes of being invited, some time today. I have heard the expression bones and balls, so I would like to think that the theme will be spare ribs and meatballs, but I may have misinterpreted.

Chris France


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