I believe I can say I had a blonde moment as I am blonde and therefore, laughing at myself.
I live on a narrow street in a medieval French hill top village, that is for residents only. ‘Residents’ whizz by on skateboards, bicycles, cars and scooters…beep, beep. The majority of people walk. This is a convenient cut through to the large free car park at the end of the village which takes you past a stream and under a bridge. Tranquille. Just lovely, it is.
The street runs past my door. There is no pavement. Over the years I have got used to most of the sounds that eminate from beyond my solid wooden door. But recently I have been a little disgruntled…
Of course people chat as they are walking along but why are they choosing to stand outside my door to have a telephone conversation? I can usually only hear one voice. So that is my guess. Yesterday I was particularly intrigued as this person was speaking English. Ooh, what is it they say about eavesdroppers…
But I decided to risk it. Ah, he mentions a boulangerie. Probably wants to know where it is? I could help there…
However suddenly opening the door might give the poor bloke a heart attack then we would be trying to track down the local doctor instead. So I listened a bit longer…and I heard him say, engaging, fun, unpredictable…
D’oh! he was reading this which has been stuck on my door (by me) for some days now.
It is one thing to make a cup of tea and then find it 1 hour later, stone cold but not to recognise the blurb from your own book…think I need a holiday! I am not frowning now, the sun was in my eyes and my eyes are glossy from laughing. Honest!
