At the age I am I should know that there are certain people I shouldn't invite to a party that begins at midday because they won't leave until gone midnight.  
I still soon get bored of adult company so was glad to have wee Mathéo to hand.  I raced him down the canal on the old windsurf boards and encouraged his faltering determination to jump out of the window.  His name's now on the Board, the youngest member of the Fraternity.
But October tricked us into believing it was an Indian summer.   
Yesterday rained and this morning the Pyrenean fridge opened its doors wide. 
I'd been up to the attic in N°10 a week or so ago to bring back the bin bags of winter clothes, but there was nothing but blankets in them. 
In the short time I had to clear the house I must have got rid of my jumpers and warm things which is a bit narking.
We shlepped our tired, hungover (since when did a hangover last 2 days?)  bodies up into the woods to look for cèpes.   Nico's found 'le coin' in terms of altitude, north facing hills, rain followed by sun, followed by rain, and all that the moon cycles throw in to boot.
Evenings are beginning to fall hard in the Moulin.  It's blankets (because they don't seem to be in short supply) and a fire and bed but for a short, beautiful moment, as we left the dark dankness of the wood, the sun came out.