The French Renovation

Hello again. I appreciate the fact that you're prepared to put yourself through yet more photos of my slowly emerging terrace. I look at the photos and find myself totally bewildered as to why on Earth it's taking so abominably long to create. I promise that I set to work on it every day, all day*. The initial harvesting of the rocks from the ground and from the ruin takes quite a while, and constitutes what I would call 'heavy labour'. I actually bend my knees and tighten up my core in preparation to lift particularly 'big boys'; sometimes it's touch and go as to whether or not I'll get it off the ground and into the wheelbarrow. Something painful happened today: while standing between the wheelbarrow handles, I plonked a large rock in the barrow; the barrow tipped over, its handles flinging me over sideways too. Why is it that if you fall over in the countryside, it always involves either nettles or brambles? This mishap involved both. Then there are

As the long hot summer continues in earnest, work on the terrace similarly continues. Visiting friends play their part with pride, placing stones and helping with the liming. But more about the terrace later; we recently escaped to watch the Tour de Limousin fly through Masseret. An event like this is never confined to the main act, however! There were entertainers and pop-up restaurants and bars to enjoy too.  We waited with anticipation for over an hour, but, when the bicycles eventually came, they were only around for a fleeting moment. (This echoes my previous Tour de France experience in Tonbridge, Kent. But, at least, on that occasion, there were lots of free gifts being distributed from the leader cars: tee-shirts, caps, sweets, map books, flags...) The cyclists had just completed a gruellingly steep climb to reach us at the Tour de Masseret, so water was being handed out. The only things being distributed this time were high speed water bottles due to the rapid snatch