Please remember to mention me, in tapes you leave behind

Well, to make up for the lack of pictures over the last few days (as a result of my poor old Olympus camera getting squidged in the car crash) here’s are loads, heaps, oodles, stacks…infact more photos than you could shake a reasonably sized stick at. Most of them are courtesy of Rich & Andi, but you’ll be overjoyed to learn that J&B have loaned me a camera for my last few days here – so more pictures of the Dordogne will be coming this way soon - just when you thought it was safe!

First of all though, I am astonished at how many anoraks came over all unnecessary over my passing reference to the architectural term: mansard. You know who you are! It is of course a roof with two slopes, the lower almost vertical to allow extra roof space for the attic rooms. Indeed, the lower roof can have a straight, convex or concave shape. There can’t be many people who don’t know that the style is named after François Mansart (1598-1666) and any schoolboy could have told you that it is to be found in many French styles, including Second Empire, Beaux Arts Classical, Richardsonian Romanesque. Very basic general knowledge stuff I’d have thought.

Second of all, yeap – Eton Rifles by The Jam. Thank you Meester Matthews. It must be too easy. And well done to my bruv in Oslo for spotting the ELO lyric a few days back. Ow’s about this then all you cleverclogs:

The turbine cracked up.
The buildings froze up.
The system choked up.
What can we do?

Anyway, back to the story. I struggled around trying to do a bit of housework, which isn’t that easy in my condition. I took a trip on a Gemini spacecraft to the launderette and undertook quite a successful conversation with the laundry lady who wanted to know all about the accident. She told me my French was improving – well it’s a bit late now. I was doing my ironing when C&G (the landlords) arrived half an hour earlier than I had expected them, so I didn’t have time to arrange any flowers.

A little later on, J&B and JC&D arrived for cocktails and then we trooped off to La Treille for a fine dinner to celebrate C’s birthday. We met B in the restaurant (nearly a whole alphabet there) and later on, we returned to the house for nightcaps. Comet the collie arrived and behaved like a complete tart. I must get a photo of Comet, or I may dognap her and take her back to London. Anyway, much token broken French was spoken, and we picked out colours for curtains.