After a week of endless sunshine, we put the clocks forward last night and we've woken to a rain-pouring, grey cold day.
We've friends coming to lunch and we decided it would be a good moment to have the meal up at the house. We'd imagined lounging on the veranda, replete, in the late afternoon sun. So we've been tidying the garden in their honour - mowing, weeding, strimming the edges. Now we're going to be huddling indoors in front of the Godin stove in the lounge and I have wellington-booted, back of the neck dripping journeys to make backwards and forwards between house and cottage. I must go up there now and turn on the radiators to take the chill off the dining room and lounge.
Ah well! We need the rain. I met Monsieur et Madame M. (he who sells us his wood) in Leclercs earlier in the week and they were shaking their heads at the weather, saying it was too warm and too dry. It will be good for the new grass we've seeded and the young bushes and trees we've planted. Just a shame that our guests won't be seeing them.