Snow in Villeneuve. Big, splodgy wet flakes that settle on my coat and scarf and then disappear as they hit the tarmac in Leclerc's car park.
Tod's stollen cake for last Tuesday's French lesson. Yeasty and rich. Only the crumbs left after we had seconds.
Carols at Nigel and Angie's. Sung with gusto and much nostalgia.
Our postman, walking down the drive with next year's calendars and a smile. Among the penguins, cats, dogs and cars I find the last one with landscapes of France.
Writing Christmas cards and realising (too late) I haven't bought enough from the limited choice in the post office. Making some more using Photoshop and wondering if I can find labels and the right sized envelopes within a half-hour drive radius. (Oh, for a WH Smith's.)
Tod's stollen, photo-ed by Angie just before we ate it