It's quite ridiculous to feel so peeved, and so personally slighted, by weather. We left Kent on Monday morning on a dull greyish morning - but as we crossed the channel, things at home were heating up, and friends and neighbours have had sweltering sun, lovely brightness and summery pleasures all week - while we, spending ALL this money, driving ALL this long way (about 1000 miles), being SO much in need of a holiday - have had rain, cold, wind, darkness, fog, mist, drear..... oh horrible. Surely 'it' KNOWS we came here to the south of France for some 'guaranteed' warmth and tanning? Isn't anyone listening?!?!?!?
Then reasonableness creeps in - this aberration of the weather is just a trifle, an inconvenience, nothing at all. There are people whose whole lives are endangered by mad weather, so what am I complaining about, eh?
My instinct to beat myself up over things like this is somewhat mollified this morning, as the sun is actually shining. Outside, the first of the workmen has arrived to start on installing a shower beside the new swimming pool, which so far consists of an elegant basin surrounded by tiles... and that all set in a swathe of mud and weeds, and banks of bare earth. They've had such weird weather during the early part of the year, and the tile-maker created the wrong kinds of corners, so the pool is way behind schedule.... all my dreams of lounging beside my sister's own fab pool will have to be delayed till our next visit (if I can bear the ciggie smoke which I keep forgetting about. I wish she would give up. Apart from the fact it's clearly killing her - cough, cough, cough - it makes everything smell disgusting, clothes, hair, skin, furniture.... I truly hate it). Oh dear, see how easy it is to slip back into negativity.
So, the sun is shining. A bird (unknown) is singing its heart out. A cherry tree down the lane is laden with glossy sweet fruits, free for the picking. We will go and see the confluence of the Garonne and the Tarn in a little while. Both rivers are swollen brown with flood waters. The village set where they meet is called St Nicholas de la Grave - St Nick as patron saint of sailors, and the 'Grave' being gravels which have been loaded onto boats as ballast since Roman times. Then we're going to hear an old lady talk about how she survived as a Jew under Vichy government (a talk arranged by one of Sheila's friends), and we're following that with a curry.
"I didn't come all this way to the south of France to eat curry!"
'Oh yes you did..."
Other items on our itinerary are the city of Auch (where I want to see a misericord showing St Eloi - have I mentioned this before?), and the city of Toulouse.... Quite a lot to fit into the next 2 or 3 days. In the SUN!!!!!!!!!!!!