Autumnal

I'm sure I've mentioned before the odd oak trees here, that keep all their leaves until they are pushed out by new ones.  I think my neighbours call them Chênes Verts, though TallGirl had a different name from them from her teacher (Chêne Pubescent, but I don't think that's right).  Anyway, the leaves falling off are the third proper sign of spring (I don't count flowering bulbs as they seem prone to going off early).  So, first the elder leaves (already happened), second the blackthorn blossom (not yet) and third a heap of brown leaves under the oak tree.

And so, on this very autumnal day with squally rain showers, I had nothing organised to do.  So I pottered in the shed.  I took with me the heater and some lanterns (no electric yet) and came back to the house at frequent enough intervals for tools and paint to make sure everyone believed I was working hard.  So, some painting was done, some dreaming too, and a number of podcasts listened too.

At some point I realised that a paraffin stove and paint fumes in a confined space were mainly only good news if your aim in life was nausea and a sore head...

Anyway, guinea fowl hastily prepared for dinner, and Jean de Florette to entertain the troops.  Happily Mr B managed not to give away the twist that is waiting in the second movie.  He's never seen the movies before but, turns out, read the books after I recommended them many years ago.  And to think I thought he didn't read books.