Here comes the weekend...

The French class has been a bit up and down this week.  Jean has not recovered from his mother's death last weekend, which is not surprising as he is clearly a very emotional man, but it does beg the question why he is continuing to hold classes if he has to keep going out to recover himself.  That probably sounds very hard hearted, but his mother was in her 90s and in hospital so it was to be expected.  Yes, it is hard hearted!   The result of being completely 'bouleversé' is that he is more distrait than usual.

My Thai companion in the class and I have decided to meet once a week for an hour before the class to talk to each other in French and English.  I'm looking forward to it.  She seems very pleased.  Her husband works at the Finance Ministry (or some such) and isn't home much before 10.00pm so I reckon she is rather lonely.

This morning, Friday, our landlady came to collect the rent and to do something mysterious to the hot water cylinder in the loft (accessed by a ladder leaning on the wall) which she apparently has to do once a month. She also rooted around in the loft space and collected some things she would like to have with her.  It's interesting how information about people comes in dribs and drabs.  She is an actress, author and singer and she is writing a one man show which will be performed in Geneva in January about her relationship with her father who was Roland Dubillard a famous (in France) poet, singer, actor, writer etc.   We discussed the problem we are having with the cooker, which twice has given up mid-meal and tripped the electricity.  We were plunged in darkness twice yesterday and realised we have no matches, no candles and a torch without a battery.  Last night Peter had half-cooked potatoes, a carrot and some cheese.  I was eating a meagre salad (amazingly I am dieting again) topped with two not hard boiled eggs!

After my bowl of soup at lunch time I walked up to the Place D'Italy and on the way I saw Will Self the writer and psychogeographer talking to a group of students.  He is apparently teaching on a university course here.   As I went past he was talking about anaglypta wall paper.  The things you see and hear!  I was on my way to the club (!) and caught the 83 bus.  It was packed for several stops and a lot of pushing and shoving goes on, most of it polite.  Yesterday I witnessed an altercation between a young woman with a small child and another in a pushchair and an old lady with two crutches.  Apparently the old lady didn't think the woman had been quick enough to shift her child from the priority seat.  A lot of hissing and spitting went on and, as usual, both parties tried to enlist the allegiance of those around them.  I took a profound interest in the roof of the bus.

At the club the welcome was a warm as usual.  I was there to play Scrabble.  Yes, Scrabble!  Never thought I'd be doing that in the day time, but they were lovely women and very amusing and I had a great time. 

Tonight is restaurant night.  Au Petit Marguery.  The menu is translated into English which is a bit offputting but it looks good.