Jeudi 24.05.07 Postman Jarno
I’m back to school again after a super long weekend. The traffic is dire and I almost have to break into a sprint to get to the photocopier before class starts. I’m giving my CM2 classes a written evaluation today to complement the oral they did last week. They’re not happy bunnies but once the test is divvied out they become all competitive and they plough through their brains.
With my younger kids I go through the songs we’ll be singing for La Fete des Langues on Tuesday. Of course everyone wants to hold the dog or wave the tree or hold up the letters so I spend most of the class appeasing little hearts and heads before we get down to some serious colouring.
Odile’s car is acting up and the internet is kaput too so I say my hasty bon appetites before heading for the bus and the boat. Nicola is sunning herself out on the veranda with Rowan on the car beside her. She has a class this afternoon and soon pops off in the same direction I just came from. There’s finally some welcome post to entertain ; Michele has sent us some books which are a welcome relief from reading in French and my sister Roberta has also sent me the Driver Theory Test CD.
However, all I want to do this afternoon is snooze. I don’t know why I’m so fatigued but it’s better to listen to your body and there’s no point not taking a siesta as I’d only crisp outside or boil inside. A few people have noted that I’m not as tanned as they thought I’d be after eight months in the sun. Firstly, I don’t tan easily – my Irish skin is burning matter more so than bronzing material, and secondly, I rarely set myself out on the beach BBQ – I find it rather boring, especially when the effects are neither instantaneous nor lasting. Also, it’s often just too hot to be in the sun’s glare. All those UV rays bring along pre-mature aging. And putting on sun cream is such a labour in my book. I usually choose the shade over the sun; I’d actually rather be cold than warm anyway. Man. I’m really in the wrong part of the world aren’t I?!
One person who wishes he was home is Stephen; he’s itching to get a few weeks off work to go back to England but his contract has him in a tight corner. We meet up for drinks in Point du Bout. Thankfully his conversation doesn’t orbit around hotelier business or brain surgery tonight and we have a pleasant evening. Nic has a smile on her face again as Dorian has received her card and responded to her. It’s not the most convincing response so after a bit of persuasion she calls him and they arrange to meet up over the weekend.
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