Mme Claude just came to invite us for apéros - I hope I wasn't rude in postponing until David is back; I'm fairly sure [but then again I'm often sure I've understood/been understood and it turns out not to be the case!] that she understands that it would be easier for everyone concerned if I came with my translator!
I'm OK in short bursts, but at the end of a day when I'm tired, the French gets worse [my understanding of the language, not the people!], and more words hide themselves away in the crevices of my brain, and communicating becomes much more difficult. With David there, I can receive a little help if I need it, or I can sit back and let the conversation flow a while as I catch up; we me on my own, that ain't happening!
They'd noticed our absence, and I said it was because we'd become demoralised by the delays, and that I'd painted the flat in London and we'd rented it out and moved to Maidstone. She agreed we'd been busy.
A final word on how lovely our rose is; it's fantastic, clearly being planted at the wrong time last year hasn't done it too much harm.
Once again, I'm left hoping I haven't done the wrong thing, and appeared as stand-offish...
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