Lazy days

I have been very lazy about this blog—but will try to do better. At the very least, I’ll use it to update you on our current whereabouts, beginning now.

We’re still in Labastide. I wanted to go with the “old people” on their week-long trip to Majorca, and when the bus stopped outside our door this morning the idea of stowing away crossed my mind. It was foggy, and I’ll bet I could have done it. I think one has to be 50 to belong to “the old people’s club” and I qualify. But since we’re leaving here in two weeks and have to get ready for renters, going to Majorca didn’t seem very practical.

The bus was huge, one of those very low, very sleek, very modern ones that look totally out of place in a French village. When the driver attempted to turn around he ran aground in front of the Australian’s door, and the long line of hunters’ cars coming from the opposite direction had to wait while he conjured up a strategy and finally moved the monolith. We had a view of it all from our window, and we hope the rough beginning doesn’t portend further hitches in our friends’ travel plans.