Sunday, 17 August 2014

Nude Shocker, Flagrant Francophilia, and Dish Disaster.

What is it with men and their love of leaving doors open?

Can you imagine the shock on the face of those in the van next to us when I opened our bathroom door (directly opposite our back door) after a lovely warm shower only to find Mr Fluffy had left our back door wide open to display my nudity to the great unwashed. My face showed equal mortification but, determined to get Mr F back for his faux pas, I opened the toilet hatch so that he could be swathed in the aromas of the SOG unit as he ferreted in the satellite drawer. Ha! 

Le Meuse at Montherme
After recovering from my 'naturist accidentalis' experience we left Luxembourg and the pouring rain and headed off to the Ardennes. Mr Fluffy's face was a picture, no not at the memories of my nudity, but at the excitement of French bread and jars of magnifique Blanquettes de some sort of viande, cassoulets, and of course ........the fromage! His little eyes lit up and his cheeks flushed as we entered the Le Clerc supermarche. Several bottles of wine and lumps of stinky cheese later we have ended up at our current location by the Meuse River at Montherme. 
font face
How gorge is this? We are by the marina with several lovely boats moored up. A 22km cycle along the river started the day off nicely then back to Dickie, and excitement followed as Mr F managed to get the BBC on the satellite for the first time in weeks. As I thrilled to Tim Wonacott and his familiar Bargain Hunt delivery, I concentrated on making a rowan and red thread charm. But alas, our televisual euphoria was shortlived as a gust of wind blew the satellite dish over and snapped the wires.
success
Mr F now has his tongue firmly positioned in the correct oral area for major concentration and is hoping to fix the dish so that we have a hope in hell of watching British tv tonight. Speaking of hell we are just up the road from a town called Deville. Quite amusing.

wooden window treatment
There are a couple of interesting churches in the village, one with a particularly ancient font,  and I have been looking up property prices as it is such a beautiful place. Mr F's pile envy has reached new heights (that's wood pile not haemorrhoids) as we even saw wood filling empty window spaces. 

Further along the Ardennes tomorrow.

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