Dull and cold. The weather that is. Elsewhere the weekend had a brighter outlook. Another trip to the pub on Saturday produced a happier walk home, even if horrible déjà-vu twice flashed darkly across my vision when the Villains pulled a goal back.
Sunday afternoon we were questioned by the police. Something we submitted to voluntarily I hasten to add. During our habitual weekend stroll along the river, we stumbled across a bag, apparently abandoned close to the water. Tentative investigation (with gloved hands - been watching too many policiers on TV) revealed a diary and a cheque book and other sundry items. Figuring it had probably been stolen then discarded, we decided we ought to hand it in. Which we did at the closest poste de police we could think of, the one in the park. The chap on duty duly donned rubber gloves (see!), checked the contents and took our details. Probably the last we would hear of it, so we thought, but this afternoon I received a phone call from the suitably grateful owner. Good deeds sometimes have their rewards.
Back home, la bienheureuse tired herself out making flapjack and christmas cake (spoilt, moi?) and left me to venture out solo into the freezing evening to watch some live football at Gerland. After a non-event of a first half, the second eventually burst into life when OL's left back Cissokho gave them the lead. However, PSG soon equalised and seemed to have stolen victory when Cissokho's match of extremes ended with him giving away a penalty and getting sent off at the same time. Fortunately his ten teammates survived a couple of scares one end and equalised at the other three minutes from time when the Parisian keeper fluffed a clearance straight at OL's much maligned striker. Even he couldn't miss.
