Once up and breakfasted - you won't get any sense out of me until I'm fed - I was able to take a snook at my mental list of stuff to do and not faint.
Having deposited my youngest at mountain bike club (and come back to collect his helmet & gloves), I drove into town for my annual glacé fruit expenditure. I usually go to the same shop in Montpellier, but this year got side-tracked by a stand in the Christmas market which had the most delectable display of glacé fruit this side of Apt. The guy, glacé fruit artisan from 'Les Jardins de Morgane' in Vauvert, was a right jolly chap who said I had a charming accent, so I stayed for a closer look. Yes, I'm that easy to sway...Actually, it's because he was the artisan and was so enthusiastic about his produce that encouraged me to stay. I do like to support local businesses, especially such niche ones as glacé fruit. He had clementines, melon, pears, mirabelles, ginger, angellica, cherries, figs, peaches, apricots, orange slices and some other citrus fruit I didn't recognise. I bought tons, paid an arm and a leg, added a couple of fingers for a packet of florentines that were the most delicious ones I've ever eaten, and staggered back to the car after a fleeting tour around the rest of the stands. The market was pretty appealing, but I'd done almost all my shopping by this time, so didn't really want to be tempted into any other extraneous purchases!
After collecting my youngest, feeding the boys, sending my youngest off to footie and driving my eldest to mountain bike club (no errors of memory this time), I then took myself off to meet pal B at Trinque Fougasse. It's our favourite watering hole for lunch during the week, but today they were having a special Christmas market with guest vigneron M Henry from Domaine Henry. As we had missed the launch of his latest wine, we were keen to go and taste it so near to hand.
It's always a pleasure talking to him because he is so passionate about his wine, so knowlegable about the history of wine, and very much an individual who does what pleases him and stuff the regulations. If his wine doesn't qualify for AOC status, he doesn't give a toss because he has made an excellent wine. Pal B and I like this attitude too. We also adore his wine.
We were there to taste the 'Villafranchien' which does actually qualify for AOC status and is made out of grenache (90%) and cinsault, and is absolutely fabulous. It's robust and sophisticated at the same time, with an outstandingly fruity nose which charms the senses before you've even tasted it. I bought some, natch. We also tasted everything else while we were there and then had a plateau of charcuterie before we fell on the floor.
Then I had to dash to the hairdresser's to get beautified for Christmas by Boris. While I was there, I tried to contact my eldest who was supposed to make his own way home, which he's done every Saturday so far, and couldn't get through. My youngest came back from footie and found the front door locked, so came to me whereupon I immediately had visions of my eldest squashed on the road, me spending Christmas at his hospital bedside with him in a coma stuck with tubes. I suggested my youngest see if he was at a neighbour's house, and when I rang ten minutes later, my eldest did answer the phone, obviously not squashed anywhere, so I would not have to spend Christmas at his bedside watching the monitor bleep. Phew! I then sat back and enjoyed the rest of my hair cut.
So I'm all meche'd up with nowhere to go as my TWDB is in Nice this weekend. Shame for my hair actually looking good for once. Blonder too. As I said to Boris, "Hey, you've made me into a blond babe" which made him laugh. He's such a tart, that one, it's great!
This evening you'll find me slobbing out in front of the tele watching 'Medium'. I'm done synchronsing, I've now gone into de-synchronised mode. Roger & out!
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments are bienvenue.