21st October 2009. We’re the warmest place in France today at 21C.. Paris is down at around 12C.
I thought I’d give Madame a break from the kitchen today so this morning while she was at her painting class I prepared the lunch. I’d decided to make Jambalaya – which is a combination of many things we like – seafood, chicken, chorizo sausage, rice and hot Basque sauce.. It worked out quite well.. (if I say so myself!) If the finished product looks anything like this, you're in business!
(Gardening Dept: I’ve just finished re-seeding part of the lawn at the back of the house for about the third time.. Or, as it's known here, providing the starlings with yet another picnic.. This time I used a soil compound that was supposedly very rich in fertiliser and I hope this is the last time I have to do this particular job.)
Over the last few years I’ve had some pain in my knees when they’ve been immobile for a while – such as when driving or sat in the cinema.. The docs here sent me for MRI scans and X-rays and it turns out that I’ve got a touch of arthritis in both (aka the creeping march of time..). So yesterday I went to a Rhumatologue – a specialist who deals with articulation problems - and he injected both knees with a compound designed to cushion the joints. I’ve 2 more of these sessions to come then I should be OK again.
The issue of French manners seems to exercise many English people, but as I've observed before, manners here are different. For example, sat in the waiting room of the Rhumatologue, I noticed that everyone who came in said "Mesdames, messieurs" or what sounded like "M'sieurs dames" to the waiting room at large and the majority said "Au revoir mesdames, messieurs" to those in the waiting room on leaving. Now - correct me if I'm wrong - but this would not happen back in England.
Thought for the Day: I remember a doctor friend in England once saying that he was against living healthily with the aim of extending one’s life. His rationale is that the extra 5 years gained aren’t given back to you in your middle years – where you’d want them – but they get tagged on at the end.. where you don’t. He is a keen cigar smoker who smokes without guilt.
All of which brings me on to this: when Keith Floyd died, the holier than thou element of the UK media, aka the Fun Police, had a field day.. The headline in one English newspaper was “The pleasures of life undid him in the end..!” I would doubt that he had a single regret.. he lived his life as he wanted. Many don't. Here's to you, Keith!
Here's Keith in the Pays Basque bravely trying to make a Pipérade - against a constant barrage of 'advice'!
Right, enough of this, it’s a beautiful afternoon down here and it’s time to take the pooch for a walk. Then I'm going to have a drink on the terrace. Or two.
