Readers with an eye for detail might have noticed (but probably didn’t!) that there were almost two months unaccounted for between Harry’s return from England in March and the Dordogne holiday in May. Here are a few pictures and comments on the missing weeks.

April included a mini heatwave and brought our ancient pear tree into full bloom – we’d missed this last year as we were ‘over there’ in April.

 

 

We opened up the pool and were pleased with its general condition. With the water around 22° we got in and scrubbed the tidemark at the water line:

 

Then we had the year’s first barbecue:

 

Of course, April 8th saw the start of my 70th year. Carol made me a cake:

 

There was the traditional ‘Omelette de Pâques’ in the village on Easter Monday. Does Carolyn know what’s going on behind her back?

 

After the heatwave there were a couple of weeks of fairly persistent drizzle – quite Cumbrian! But April 25th included a fine double rainbow – impossible to get it all in one photo. 

Carol decided to use this time to decorate our bedroom. The room was cleared of all except the largest pieces of furniture, and for about two weeks we slept in ‘Patience’, the first guest room.

We like the end result:

But it was nearly time for Judi’s arrival to house-sit. This lot had be removed from ‘Pirates’ so that Carol (Jnr) could use it, arriving while we were away.

Pam and Trevor have now bought a house in Arriège, about 40 minutes away, but at this time had not yet moved in. They were living in a ‘gîte’ nearby. We’d heard of an Esperanto group meeting near Pamiers and, though it wasn’t ideal timing, Trevor and I went and were glad to have done so. Pam kindly helped Carol with the bed-making here. That done, they went for a walk above the village:  

After the Dordogne holiday, and just before our next escapade, Nick had a significant birthday: 

He and Carolyn invited most of the village to ‘apéro’ on the square in front of ‘Maison Bleue’, and kindly – or rashly – invited me to entertain!

 

The next day,May 29th, we flew out of Carcassonne heading for Stansted. I really should have taken a picture of the cattle pen which passes for a ‘departure lounge’ at Carcassonne airport, and circulated it widely to illustrate the difference between the myth of Ryanair travel as portrayed by the current TV advert and the reality. It really is a dreadful experience!

At Stansted, more discomfort; we missed the chance to use the loos on the plane before the descent began, so by the time we we in the terminal this was first priority. Once up the steps – STEPS! – and into the corridor, the nearest loos were the ‘wrong’ way – against the flow (of people). Got there – the ladies was queueing, and the gents: closed! Disabled, only choice! Once in, pitch black, no light, no switch! In the end, Carol emerged from the Ladies and stood guard with the door open enough to provide a minimum of light ….

So now we were way behind everyone else, the disgorged contents of two planes. We followed signs. Down two escalators. Into an empty hall with no exit but several automatic doors, which wouldn’t open – and the escalators coming DOWN, but none going UP. There was no signage. We had NO IDEA that this was a shuttle station. I banged on several of the doors with my stick. Carol picked up the emergency phone, then lights began to flash above some of the doors, which then soon opened to give access to the shuttle.

Things did get a bit better. At the main terminal a very nice young lady listened sympathetically to tales of closed and unlit loos and claustrophobic basements with no signs, then once through passport control we set about trying to find our car hire firm. Having said ‘never again’ to Hertz after last year’s experience (you can check back if you really want to!) we’d chosen ‘Firefly’. No evidence of Firefly’s desk …. We phoned them. They’re part of Hertz!!  But this worked in our favour, in the end. We asked if they could bring up our previous history and we registered ‘disappointment’ at having had no reply to our feedback; they gave us £24 worth of 2nd driver insurance for free.

We collected our Vauxhall Corsa and headed for Potters Bar where we had a nice meal with Chrys and Jan.

We had gone to England to be at the dedication service for Chris & Michelle’s children. We were saddened to have heard of the death of Martin Horton, an old friend of Carol’s, husband of Cathy. But happily, in one sense, the funeral had been planned for that Saturday, 31st May, so we were able to postpone our drive to Huddersfield in order to attend. Not only that, but Martin’s sister, Mary, wheelchair user, lives not far from Chrys and Jan, so we were able to take her as well.

During the drive north in the evening, the second driver insurance was particularly important since I was hit by the second migraine of the day (or a recurrence of the first) and couldn’t see straight!

We got lucky in Huddersfield as we needed advice to find our hotel, having no satnav or plan. We stopped beside a very helpful taxi driver who said ‘follow me’ and then stopped again a bit later to point out the road we needed.

We were also well served at the Cambridge Hotel the next morning where the receptionist not only copied two sections of town plan for us showing how to get to the (changed) venue for the service, but brought them to our room. Chris’s instructions by text hadn’t arrived at that time.

It’s difficult for us to comment on the service, especially after the sharply contrasting funeral the day before. Contrasting not only because of the nature of the event. The funeral had been High Anglican, with robed clergy, traditional church music, communion, and a Bishop to pronounce the commendation. The dedication was ‘Evengelical / Pentecostal’, casual dress, guitars and drums. Let’s say both events were found to be appropriate and meaningful to those most closely involved.

Respecting the ongoing advice not to show identifiable photos of S & N (a pity since this was ‘their’ day!) here are some of other folk:

She’s a show-stealer; can’t think where she gets it from!

After lunch at the church, a reduced party moved to 730 Manchester Road …..

CHRIS! I think Dan and Fiona gave ‘Funny Faces’ as a present to the children!

Er, yes, well …..

….it was on the chair; I just picked it up.   But who took the photo? Either S or N, I can’t remember, but didn’t he/she do well?

At last Daddy (Chris) stopped playing and let his son have a go:

Rachel, Sean and Sannon left before the rest of us shared a take-away meal. Then after bedtime we got the cards out and the remaining foursome (Dan, Fiona and Luke had also left) enjoyed a rubber of bridge.

The drive south on Monday 2nd June was uneventful and we are grateful to Chrys and Jan for another evening’s hospitality and bed for the night. The Stansted experience on Tuesday morning wasn’t too bad:

– though it still doesn’t match the propaganda!

Back at home, on a hot day, we were glad of the pool to jump into!

Since then, the weather has got hotter and hotter; there’s always the threat of thunderstorms, but they haven’t materialised yet. (Do thunderstorms do that?) We’re eating our own-grown lettuce leaves, and lots of strawberries. Tomatoes are just visible. Last Thursday I took part in, and Carol attended, my first ‘Chorale’ concert. (No photos). A new style of performance for me – I’m not used to singing unaccompanied with lots of ‘doo-be-do-wah’s instead!

I think it’s time for a dip ….

FOOTNOTE:

Tuesday 3rd June, 4.30 pm:

Hallo, Lady Lucy! Wo warst du, denn? Where have you been?

A Carcassonne. A l’aéroport. THEY left me there. 

THEY? I thought we weren’t to say that any more.

Don’t care! Je suis cuite.

What?

Cooked – fried – what you say? Frazzled.

But it’s not been hot till today.

Tu parles! J’en ai marre! I have had enough of HIM. And HE bashed me up in Carcassonne last week. HE backed me into a fence post. Look!

Those few scratches! That’s nothing. He practically pulled my tail light cluster right off back in Cumbria. I was stuck up with duck tape for months.  He doesn’t mean to do it; he’s just a bit too hasty at times …..

Oops! Well, you’ll never get nowhere if you’re too hasty ….. I don’t suppose either of THEM would have come up with that.