I was reclining on my lounger and reading my book on the terrace this afternoon when I got buzzed by a helicopter. It wasn’t the paparazzi or the guy from Milk Tray but the EDF helicopter checking the electric wires. I’m currently reading George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighteen-Four; there are so many classic books that I haven’t read so I’m trying to make up for it in my old age.
This morning we rode thirty eight kilometres. It was a nice leisurely pace because Paul had to keep stopping to pump his front tyre, he had a slow puncture. When we got home he mentioned that we hadn’t had a game of table tennis for a couple of years. Give me a break! Anyone would think we’re training for a triathlon – he’ll be wanting me to do a few lengths of the swimming pool next. (Good job we haven’t got a pool.)
The courgettes have started to go mad in the garden so tonight I am cooking courgette carbonara. Easy to do and not much washing up. For dessert we have a bowl of cherries, scrumped earlier today from Philippe’s trees.