It's a looking forwards time.
A few rushed days to come and we will wake in our little house in Brittany.
Birds will sing outside the window, the fresh Breton sun will pour through the blinds every morning.
The days will start with a desperate rush to be out of the house in time to catch the Intermarche before the midday shut down.
Occasional walks into town to feed the tribe at 10€ a head. Eating out is something we simply cannot afford here.
But what else is there?
Crisp lemony Sur lie for 3€ a bottle.
Punnets of peaches for just a touch above nothing.
Proper coarse Gros Plant to swim the moule in.
I cannot say posh reds, we have been reduced to drinking St Emilion and Morgon for weeks now. We could be down to Chateauneuf by Wednesday night!
Neither can I say strong Arabica coffee, our stock has held up - just.
But what is she looking forwards to?
What does she yearn and hanker after?
Breton Salt Butter, heart attack in a tablet, that's what.
On super fresh pain, still warm from the boulangerie.
A woman of simple tastes the management.....
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