Hours of cards and board games, Mexican dominoes and scrabble.
An afternoon's half-finished jigsaw left on the kitchen table for later, covered with a tablecloth while we have supper.
A walk snatched along the canal tow-path before the next downpour.
A stroll through Saturday's market and enticed by a plant for the garden, a sweet ripe melon, musky tomatoes. And fresh, tender French beans to be added to an evening's warming curry.
Visits to our local crêperie, where we relish the welcome of our hostess and the cosiness of the old colombage room. Outside in the courtyard - a place of delight on hot summer nights - the wind eddies and gusts.
A dash across the carpark at Buzet between showers to the wine warehouse full of noisy French tourists relishing the degustation, to buy a pretty bottle of wine - soft blue glass fading to clear - where the look of the bottle is more important than its contents.
A trip to Leclercs to buy a warm hoodie and luscious prunes dipped in dark chocolate.
The days slip by and we scan the météo, hoping for better news. Tomorrow our friends leave and for the first time in a week we are promised fine weather.