Aude, the decaratrice, continues to work away on the paint scheme in the hallway. All that's left now is the application of a second coat to the walls and the 'distressing' of the woodwork. Surprisingly, the last minute insertion of a new colour between the dado rail and the skirting board works well. At this rate everything may be finished by Wednesday of next week. Wilf will miss lying in the middle of the hall listening to Aude chat away to herself. He remains entirely convinced that she's talking to him. For some reason Aude will not paint the window frames.
'The font' speaks French with great precision. Yours truly speaks it with arm waving gusto. After a year in which we've had to cope with the eccentricities of the rickety old farmhouse, an errant sewage system, the unexpected discovery of neolithic remains, canine oncology and obdurate bee swarms; it has been decided that our language skills need to go up a notch. This afternoon 'the font' heads off to Paris to attend the first 'residential' weekend of a university language course. For Wilf and his chauffeur there will be steak tonight and chicken casserole tomorrow. Wilf is also hoping there will be pretzels.