A French Kiss With Death*

“When you wake up, let me know.  You should have a bath, Mum xx.”  Mum’s message comes through when I turn my phone on at 4.58pm today, after a failed attempt at an afternoon sleep.  The parental room has a bath whereas my one doesn’t.  

Am going to disobey my mother and write this blog first though, otherwise there won’t be time for it before going out in search of supper.

“Hope you’re having nice time.  What day do you get back?” Seb’s message comes through at 10.25pm last night.

“Am back at the flat on Monday,” I say.

“I can come round for most of Monday but unfortunately won’t be able to stay the night as agreed to do very early bat survey Tuesday,” Seb says.  “Back on Friday though, then I’m all yours xxx.”

“OK darling,” I say.  “Hope to see you then.  Sending you kisses xxx.  Definitely having you back on Friday then xxx.”

So that is something to look forward to.  Am feeling sad about the end of the holiday and returning home to autumn, hospitals and so on.  Wish could stay here for a bit longer.  On the plus side: in two days time will see my Seb and cuddle him.  Have missed him.

Attached photo is a 1931 Citroen Autochenille P17 Crosiere Jaune from the Automobile museum today.  “Designed to tackle any terrain (it even had a propeller), 12 of these P17s and 19 men rallied from Beirut to Peking on 1931/2’s Yellow Cruise, even crossing parts of the Himalayas.”

There’s a knock on my door.  It’s Mum.  

“Are you going to have a bath?” She says, looking concerned.

“I’m writing the blog,” I say.  “Afterwards.  I’m not…”

“I’ll run a bath for you,” Mum says.  

So had better wrap this up.

Happy Saturday everyone!
*2012.  By Michael Keyser.  Book about Steve McQueen and the making of Le Mans. 

Le Mans is, of course, where we are…

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