Sunny, hot, temps 27Well, it's really hot! Can't quite believe it. Keep changing clothing, getting skimpier and skimpier. But wow does it feel wonderful after the long winter - and that was just the April in London!
Here's Trudy, on our dock. She's home now and a little groggy after being fixed but besides that surprisingly peppy. We just need to walk her on a leash, which surprises her, and check her wound for infection. They gave us some pain-killers - will try not to take them ourselves.
Just got off the phone from a local man - Dr. Grondin I think he said his name is. He asked if I'd speak to his club in a weeks time. They have dinner meetings at the Auberge West Brome, just down the road. I said I'd love to. Then he asked the 'question juste' - do you speak French? What to say? for once I was honest...yes, I said, but perhaps not well enough to carry a 1 hour talk to people who've already had quite a bit of wine. Though, actually, that would help. They can have wine, I can take Trudy's pain-killers and we're all happy (except Trudy). I've given talks in French before, and run meetings in French - but it's just so much work, I'd rather not. But he was very kind and said his members understand English. I guess we'll see. If need be I'll try out my Russian.
Adeen haladeelnik. One refridgerator. Short, kind of mysterious. Almost poetic.
Trees are exploding in bloom - last of the daffodils cut - I put them in a vase and will walk over to the guest cottage to leave them there for Susan, who's coming down tomorrow. In fact, I put on my rubber boots to do that, then got side-tracked by messages, and thought I might as well blog while I'm here. My feet are quite hot now. I wonder if this blog is deteriorating?
Staked up the peonies yesterday and made arrangements for a local organic farmer to bring produce by every Thursday throughout the summer. Yum.
I'm off to take the flowers next door then sit out by the pool with the proofs. At one stage the proof editor actually calls Gamache stupid. I don't think that's called for. Another bit like that and the pages might find themselves falling into the goose poop zone of the pond.
Still writing book 5 - every morning and into the early afternoon. Things are coming together, clues revealed...stuff Gamache (who isn't in the least bit stupid) has wondered about throughout the investigation are becoming clearer. I love this part.
Be well. Be kind.
