We went to the market in Castres where the girls bought all sorts of cheeses, we got charcuterie and that became lunch here on the terrace with the addition of a tomato salad (and much wine.)
Then an Olympics enthusiast tried to put a flag up at number 42:
Mike made her take it down lest people think we’re Brexit supporters; which we’re obviously not. The visit is going wonderfully, as it always does. It’s done something fantastic for me which was sort hit the reset button in my head. They arrived and I was suddenly me again. The candles and canapés, Villa l’Africaine me, which is really the best version. Much more pleasant than the sitting in the dark guessing at which age I might die me.
Yea for GIRLS to pep you up!! 🙂
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And drink with!
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Why not go ahead and just pick 30? This way you no longer need to contemplate it as its already
been proven false. :p
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Then I’d hate myself for having been wrong! 😀
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Haha you can’t win.
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That’s quite the choice: candles/canapés or… thinking about death, of course!
Yes, preparing for and then having enjoyable guests allows one to switch perspectives and see one’s home and town and living environment afresh what is all too easily taken for granted. It recharges the batteries, so to speak.
Of course, there’s the downside that when the visit is done and one relaxes again, one must necessarily go back to the dark… and resume thinking about at what age one will die! Maybe next week. Or the week after.
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And then up and then down again 🙂
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I’ve recently started thinking about death….probably as soon I will reach 60, & have realised I’ve lived at least 3/4’s of my life (both parents died in their 80’s so I’m hoping I have at least another 20 years). I keep wondering what on earth I’ve done with all those years. Baking, reading & visiting art galleries mostly….nothing earth shattering. Oh, & somehow surviving bringing up a son!
Picking 30 is a great idea 🙂
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At 63, I’ve been thinking the exact same thoughts. The nice thing is that there are no use-by dates for bakers and writers and people who love. We just keep getting better with age, like a very good wine. 😀
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A son is a huge thing!
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Yes, but he’s given me grey hairs, depression & taken almost all our money. He does work hard though, & at least doesn’t still live at home. It’s worth paying some of his rent etc to stop him moving back!
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Everything has a price…
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Amusingly and darkly dramatic; there’s something comical about us contemplating our non-existence, as if it actually mattered. I was looking at the little electronic calendar at the bottom of this screen yesterday, knowing that one of the days listed and fixed as a certainty to experience – for some – was the day I would die. Actually, someone just gave me a gift of a film on DVD in which god lives in Brussels and his daughter hacks his computer, then leaking details of the death of everyone on the planet. How would you react to such knowledge, Pink?
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I’d find it comforting. As much as I know it doesn’t matter, I like knowing, planning, organizing 🙂
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Planning & organizing what? You pick a burial plot (or a place to have your ashes scattered), you make a will, and when your number’s up, your number’s up.
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Organizing what I do between now and becoming ashes!!! How I use my time.
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Do what you love
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I love staying in bed 😀
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Enough with the morbid! What is this Castres place that looks like a better plumbed version of Venice??? Absolutely wonderful.
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It’s cute, isn’t it? It’s our sister town, 15 minutes away (from our edge to their edge.) We’re technically called the agglomération Castres-Mazamet. Mazamet up the mountain, Castres at the bottom 😀
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15 minutes? I’d pay to go to a place like that and you get it thrown in as part of the fixtures. Forgive me for saying this but…forget Villa L’Africaine! You have landed in heaven, end of story. 😀
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I know you’re right! I’m getting there. I’m just very slow to accept change 🙂
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I know. I still dream about the house my ex and I bought, all those years ago. It’s a part of my history, but I’m happier now. 🙂
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I keep looking at the photo’s & thinking how fortunate they are to live there. Even on a cold wet day I bet it’s still a pretty place.
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Yes! I had that thought too. I mean, I love where I live but you can’t look at those photos without wishing you could see the real thing. -sigh-
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So much talk of death, with five children I don’t have time to think of it!!! So instead let’s talk about the Olympics; our children made five flags for the start of the Olympics, a British one, as we are Britsh, a French one, as we live in France, a New Zealand one as our youngest was born in Auckland so is a Kiwi, an American one as we lived in the USA prior to France and one of the Olympic Rings for the refugee team who are so incredibly amazing.
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