Looking at the météo for today, there was this banner ad: "Ras-le-bol fiscal?" over a man with his head in his hands. I sort of knew what it had to mean, but hadn't come across the phrase ras-le-bol. So I looked it up.
Oh how appropriate! My dictionary tells me "(Colloquial) To be really fed up with. To be heartily sick of. Gloominess. Despondency. Dolefulness."
Yep, that just about sums up how we're all feeling about this year's summer in this part of glorious south west France.
Somehow the UK seems to be having our summer and we've got theirs. Friends talk delightedly on Skype about swimming in the sea (in the UK!) and not minding the occasional dull day, because the summer has been so lovely and warm and sunny.
When I was house hunting here I met an English estate agent who said she so enjoyed the certainty of the long hot summers. Not any more! At least those of us who live here all the time can fondly remember June. This year is tough for those who are just down for the holidays.
As I walked through the market this morning and the heavens opened yet again, a stall-holder muttered "putain" as she hauled an already damp plastic sheet back over her sodden fruit and vegetables.
This evening we are going to a concert in a chateau - in the garden if fine, in the entrance hall if wet - hence my check on the météo. Looks like we'll be in the hall.
Friends arrive from the UK in ten days. It'll be nice for them to have a cooler week here, after all that good weather at home. They may, however, just have to put up with a general slightly damp air of doleful "ras-le-bol" among the locals.
Sunrise before yesterday's storms