Wind a problem?

Wind was a problem yesterday for many. No, not that type of wind, although that is often more of a problem as I reach towards the beginning of my seventh decade early next year. No, I mean the mistral. It was blowing yesterday at a good 40 miles per hour, which was about as fast as my mum ever drove. It was as strong as that day two years ago when it blew some sand into my rosé on the beach, so clearly it was a serious matter and merited the yellow weather warning issued by the French Meteorological office,  Meteo France. Wine drinkers need to be warned when danger of that extreme nature lurks, and to this end any attempts to cut the budgets of this worthy organisation should be scrapped immediately.

With That Nice Lady Decorator heading to the UK early this morning for the weekend, I shall stay in until Monday, without a drink and in quiet contemplation of my misdeeds and in atonement for them. I would suggest that nobody believes that, and they would be right. Tennis is a very real possibility this morning, and, if it goes ahead day, then there will be a luncheon at Auberge St Donat. I believe that the usual suspects, Blind Lemon Milsted, the Wingco and Master Mariner Mundell will comprise the heart of the gathering, which may perhaps be augmented by more miscreants as it is Friday. I shall leave it until tomorrow to report exactly in which manner I swept to victory.

Then there is the football. England is playing Montenegro in a World Cup qualifier in the evening which will need to be watched, and will require a beer in the hand, and Sprog 1 is suggesting something called a house party this evening after England have won. I have heard about these, but when I told him that I wanted something more lively than a game of bingo, he looked at me blankly. I like a big generation gap (“nice to see, to see you nice”). Now I am getting really obscure, anybody still with me?

My picture today, taken on Wednesday, depicts the view we had from our table at lunch. It is a tough life down here in the south of France, contemplating the fine services of Currencies Direct. Perhaps I should submit the bill for lunch to then for reimbursement?

A calming bottle of wine, thankfully secure from the wind later. Clearly it was best despatched before the mistral took hold.

Now to Saturday. I have been invited to the opening of an exhibition of paintings from the artists who frequent The Hangar, where the lovely Marina Kulik also does painting classes, and where, I need hardly remind you, the painting that graces the cover of my book, the Valbonne Monologues was painted. Because the standard of the paintings produced in that competition was so high, I shall be down at the exhibition, called Pure Nature, when it opens at 2.30 on Saturday. The fact that they are offering free wine has absolutely nothing to do with it. It is open to all and will be staged at the hall attached to the Valbonne church at the lower end of the village, which should appease the Reverend Jeff, although he would probably contend that it should have been built on the higher end if the village, in order to claim the moral high ground no doubt. If you can’t get down tomorrow, it is open until 27th October from 10 until 6 each day.

Ok, that’s enough about art, I am off to lunch and let the party begin.

Chris France
@Valbonne_News