You know how some days are just perfect.  No other word for it.  Actually, not true, as sublime is also a good word for today.  We had friends over for dinner last night and, rather than their running the gauntlet of the gendarmes on their way home, we agreed that even though they only live a 15-minute drive away, they’d stay over at Les Terraces thereby avoiding the designated driver misery and the police ambush just down the D936.  Have a mini-break, if you know what I mean.

It was a predictably late night.  Much laughter and good conversation, plus quite a lot of food and Armagnac too.  I woke at 7 this morning and, given that it was after 1 when we said good-night, that’s not bad going.  I could see clear blue sky above us through the Velux over our bed.

I wandered downstairs and made preparations for breakfast, but not before looking out of the windows that give onto the terrace and seeing not only that the water level had risen on the river, but thick swathes of mist drifting down towards us.  This sight was worthy of a photo, although I’m not sure that my pathetic attempt does it justice.  Still, here it is:

After breakfast we were left to our own devices, as our friends had work to do at home, so I made some preparations for supper and did the laundry – it is a super day for line-drying!  G caught up on some sleep.  I, however, just couldn’t resist the view today.  So I’ve given the terrace furniture a couple of doses of oil to keep it looking as we like it to while Graham watches the Belgian Grand Prix (what a waste of a beautiful day).  It seems a pity to “waste” a day as beautiful as this by staying at home.  I feel that we ought to be out doing something, but there’s a little voice inside that asks “Why?  Haven’t you everything that you want right here?”  The little voice is right.  We do.  So I am content to rest and enjoy life’s riches, however simple … gazing out on the river and just, just……… just being.

Our neighbours barbequed their lunch today, so our nostrils have been tantalized by the scents of food cooking on a charcoal grill, whetting our appetite for what we call either slunch, or slupper (late lunch/early supper).  What in days gone by was “dinner”, particularly in the north of England.

There are families enjoying the Plage des Bardolets, the usual parade of people walking their dogs along the river, a few canoeists (but not as many as one would expect given the fine weather), and a few small planes flying into the aerodrome on the north shore of the Dordogne. There is the standard mid-afternoon mass of contrails showing the tracks of planes zipping from here to there and there to here.

We learned on an earlier trip that although the aerodrome is just above Port-Sainte-Foy, it is owned by Sainte-Foy-La-Grande.  We also hear that the restaurant there is excellent. In fact, we’ve made a sort-of plan to meet Robin & Trudi there for dinner one night before we leave, which we’re looking forward to.

 

So, anyhow.  Today is just a perfect day, and I just wanted to share it with you.  In a perfect world Mo would be here too (and not bored), as would Aileen .  We’d be playing Scrabble and sipping wine – don’t get upset, Mother, but you & Robin don’t play Scrabble, and that’s what I like t do on a lazy afternoon – and, as I’ve said before, simply enjoying life.  I hope that you’re having a good Sunday too.