Forget-me-not

I woke up at 4.16 to the sound of the bloke in the next room snoring. I think I drifted back to sleep (bless the BBC world service) and then I was up and out like a whippet. I negotiated the receptionist's small talk, buying coffee, buying a bus ticket, the bus driver telling me I couldn't take my coffee on the bus, all in French and all before 9 a.m. I'm like a native speaker now, I tell you. (Tbh, I think I look a bit startled when anyone actually understands my mangled French)

Then a peaceful flight, train and home.

I spent this afternoon gently pottering in the garden, then helped Amelia write her speech for her English oral tomorrow while we admired my beautiful new Hague Blue living room, finally finished.

Meanwhile, the funeral directors in France are apparently being crap and haven't provided the paperwork Dan and Liz need to bring back Martin's ashes. Fingers crossed they sort that one out....