POSTCARD from PROVENCE

I tried to take one of the minibuses back to the Hertz garage this morning (no-one seems to want to leave the Madelene!) but was informed by Julian that I couldn't because six people were painting irises up against it and and using it as shade and protection from the mistral. So, instead, I brought over my cello and got it out of its box for the first time in two months (hope my orchestral employers aren't reading this) for a very brief and somewhat rusty serenade for flower painters.

Julian is in his element discussing light on a petal or a distant field and the paintings are popping out. It looks like we may have to spend Sunday and Monday off preparing more boards for group number two!  You can see day one's work on the Gallery. More to come. It gets better every day.

Meanwhile Louis is either over excited by visits to people in the group who are giving him presents (“Karin is the best girl in the world”) or missing his mama and dada. We're not sure which. For two nights running—yes, all night—he has been blabbering about purple this and asparagus that. Then he gets up after a brief but deep morning sleep and says “I slept all night!” We wish!

The food and wine are to die for at every turn and I have never NOT looked forward to going to a restaurant so much in my life. But tomorrow is Philip and Jude's night off. Have a good one you guys! You've earned it three hundred times over.