More normal winter temperatures have returned to Lyon. Last Wednesday freezing rain caused chaos in and around the city. As I didn't get out until after 10.30 I was largely oblivious to it, but most of la bienheureuse's colleagues arrived at work late with tales of nightmarish journeys. Otherwise it was a quiet week. La bienheureuse had meetings just outside Lyon on Monday & Tuesday, but fortunately (as she was taking the car) not on Wednesday. Another out of town meeting on Thursday was cancelled because more freezing rain was forecast. As it turned out, it was only freezing fog.
Meanwhile, I shivered and beavered away in my own fashion at home. Having rushed to finish roman numèro trois before Christmas so that la bienheureuse could read it during the holiday, I've decided on another rewrite. Prompted partly by a slightly lukewarm reaction by my beloved, but also by a new twist I've thought of which should improve the book. That's my excuse anyway, though I concede it could just be another form of procrastination before I have to get down to trying to sell both latest masterpieces...
Our weekend was also fairly quiet. La bienheureuse cooked while I mused. In search of inspiration. Not for the book but for an application for the best job in the world, which two young ladies in Australia have been harassing me to apply for. Needless to say, I haven't done so yet. Maybe after the skiing holiday.
We did get out once, on Saturday evening for the ritual trip to the pub. Another late show by much maligned hommes d'Arsène Wenger set us up well for some fast food on the way home. Fast food French style. We went to L'Entrecôte, a restaurant with no menu. Only choices to be made, quelle cuisson for the steak, and Bordeaux or Côte du Rhône for the wine. Excellent it was too, though the frites were a bit greasy...
Finally, a small self-congratulatory hurrah. 100 not out and still blogging. Even if it remains largely unread...
