Clinging on

Mr B headed to the market this morning, while I got some work out of the way (no rest for the self-employed...) and then we walked a new (to us) stretch of the roman road. Or 'old road' as I should probably call it, as an explanatory board along the way informed us that they've no idea if it was a roman road - despite it's name of Voie Romaine - but that it's definitely very old. (Also discovered rather delightfully that the 'Pont Romain' part way along the walk was first built in the 17th century. Hmmm.)

Lots of shots of sunny blue skies, great views and fluffy seed things (and some annoying sweet peas just growing wild by the wayside - and looking much happier than my carefully nurtured ones) but I kept coming back to this quickly grabbed shot of a snail on a barley stalk. As you can see it was a bit breezy at this point.

Long lovely lunch on the terrace with an entirely appropriate amount of rosé wine to welcome Mr B back to the sunshine. Unfortunately I then started sinking into a migraine haze and spent the rest of the afternoon grumpily ignoring the fact, downing painkillers like they were going out of fashion. Eventually sense prevailed and a little lie down in a dark cool bedroom put me back on an even keel. Until dinner, that is. Dinner itself was a lovely bbq, but to the soundtrack of our neighbours' dodgy taste in American music. This also provided the soundtrack (single glazed windows are officially rubbish) to watching Spain vs France in the footie, and some telly later too. When Katherine came down close to midnight saying she couldn't sleep I very nearly went out and hollered at them - but instead recommended headphones and a talking book to K, who seemed happy enough with that.

By 2.30 am (I was in bed by then with my own talking book on) I gave up and went downstairs to sleep in the guest room which is at the front of the house and was much quieter. I mean, a party's all well and good, but I think it's fair enough to take it indoors at midnight, or at least warn your neighbours first. Particularly given these are the neighbours who shouted at us to shut up when we were chatting (loudly) on the terrace with friends at 11pm a few weeks ago. Grumble grumble. (Obviously I'm mainly just grumpy that they didn't invite us.)