Piscine About? (Sally) - July 4th

A poor night’s sleep. Couldn’t get comfortable.

Up and at ‘em. After showering - off to get bread and croissant (just one, although I could eat more). Couldn’t resist nibbling the end off the still warm bread. Again, I could have scoffed the lot and had to go back for more.

Cycled to the local bricolage to buy some tile undercoat. Made the mistake trying to do a hill start on my bike. I ended up pushing it until it wasn’t as steep!

Opened the tin and I think it was either opened and someone returned it, or it could be old. Painted the rest of the tiles and the paint seems to get thicker the more it is used, even after stirring. Finished. Not the best job, just o.k.

Break for lunch, some of that exceptionally nice bread with some Brie. Again.

Saved the peach for later.

I never realised how hot it was until I, some would say foolishly, decided to sand the living room walls. My face was dripping - must be the goggles. There is a reason, I now know, that they are called boiler suits. Two hours later, a third of the room done - good job. Ready for a nice long shower.

Decided to take an evening walk to try and find the local piscine that’s only opens during the summer. Followed the very vague signs which said there is a stadium, school and mentions the piscine. Yay, I’m on to a winner. No, walked almost to the edge of the village - NO piscine piscine! Turned back and went up a road on which we originally viewed a house (the first of three we looked at in Uzerche when buying). Nice to see that someone is living there. At the top of this road is a cemetery, not a particularly attractive one. But I hadn’t come to look for Pere LaChaise. Still no sign of that piscine, piscine. Perhaps it is an urban myth. I thought, right, let’s go home and fight another day.

Home to a glass of chilled wine and a goodnight call to my lovely husband.