Another hot day today.
Got up early to go to the CPAM to hand in all the forms to claim money back from the state for various medical things W has had this year and last. It opened at 0830 so got there bang on to find we were 6th in the queue.
But then it will be shut for August.
Then picked up Molly's ashes and made an appt for W to finally see the doc re her shoulder.
Rallye Montagne Noire will be in full swing this weekend, so the centre of town is closed off. It will be as noisy as usual, and as boring. Just cannot get into modern cars. Rallying or not.
Slung the blackcurrant mix into a filter bag thing over a big pan, using a sun umbrella as a support. It is still dripping very slowly.
Once finished, add the sugar syrup and bottle. (Shouldn't really but we are not going to find a big conatiner to leave it in for the supposed 3 months. It isn't wine we are making.)
Got stopped by "le pleaud" tother day just as we had got onto the mountain road, first time for AGES.
Waved in and the blokey has a very intense look at the front of the Pluriel. Comes to my window and asks if we are British. (It isn't only Brit plod that ask daft questions!) Meanwhile I had reached for my "baise en ville" to get out my papiers etc.
"Yep" sez I. "Are u on 'oliday or du yu leeve 'ere?" quoth he. Not stoopid, as if we did, what were we doing on Brit plates. "A bit of both, we have a résidence secondaire 'ere." "Where?" I give him the name of the hamlet. "OK c'est bon" and he waves me away. Didn't want to see papiers for either me or the car. Very strange. I think we must be integrating a bit!
He weren't the gendarmes routiers, he were the town poliss.
Had dins at lunchtime as we is off to hear some jazz this eve.
Have a lovely eve one and all!