Legends from our own lunchtimes

Wednesday, September 05, 2012

Parroy to Lagarde

In direct contrast to last year's triumphant return to a blaze of trumpeters, although admittedly my mind has gone a bit fuzzy on the detail and it may well have been only Maggie making the trumpet noises, we just sort of slipped quietly into our berth at a time which was barely after that in which a civilised breakfast would be finished, and quietly set about wondering where the past six months had gone.

When we left, spring had not taken hold, and despite the cooler mornings now with us autumn has not quite arrived yet despite some of the trees doing their best to be part of the party.  In the past the temperature alone has informed us that it was time to head south, but this time we seem to be remarkably acclimatised.

We have a week and a half to pack and finish our cleaning  and maintenance chores, so today we just breathed deeply and sat around to gather our strength for the party tonight, and for making the lists that form an inevitable part of our departure routine.

1 comment

Gunn said...

Love it!

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