Saturday, November 28, 2020

Lockdown diaries, day thirty, bells, beer and bike rides

French Village lockdown Diaries day thirty cycling patisserie
At the patisserie in Brioux-sur-Boutonne

Day thirty, Saturday 28th November 2020


French Village lockdown Diaries day thirty DIY decorating
Almost there Adrian

Between the bells

We were gently woken from our dreams by the eight o’clock morning angelus, and another day of clear skies revealed itself outside the shutters. By the time the village bells were ringing out the midday angelus I had the washing hung out, a batch of yoghurt in the maker, the soup ready for a late lunch, a cake cooling, the pork bones roasted and on their way to becoming a bone broth stock and we’d hung the wallpaper on the chimney breast and round into the nook where the shelf unit sits, leaving just a few over the door pieces, and the last bit of wall with three full drops to do. Fuelled by an extra, and somewhat late, morning coffee, these final bits were all finished before lunch. That’s how to rock your Saturday morning.


French Village lockdown Diaries day thirty cycling patisserie
Our celebratory flan and beer

A beer and bike ride to Brioux-sur-Boutonne

Following on from yesterday’s post about celebrating payday, someone on Facebook asked how we’d be celebrating our increased freedom that came in today, where we can now roam within a twenty-kilometre radius from home and be out for three whole hours. Well, the answer was simple, a bike ride to Brioux-sur-Boutonne, which comfortably sits right at the edge of our twenty-kilometre zone. It’s also home to an award-winning patisserie, who were open and had our favourite flan, just waiting to be boxed up for us. A bench in the sunshine, the two beers Adrian had packed, and our patisseries were the perfect way to toast the end of the current decorating project and our first day of almost-freedom. The ride home with the setting sun and the moon only a day away from full, was beautiful, if a little chilly on my ears. Our route took us up to the ridge that looks down onto Chef Boutonne and where we had 360º views of orange, pink and lilac skies.


By the time the angelus rang out at six o’clock this evening we were back from our thirty-eight-kilometre bike ride, the washing was in, the bread maker was happily preparing the dough for the pizzas this evening and the sounds of Ed’s guitar were filtering through the house. There was even enough time to finish off today’s diary and reassemble the shelf unit upstairs before our aperos. I’ll have more days like today please.

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