Bon soir!
For those of you who do not know French and who do not care to, je suis desole. I am sorry, but I must practice at every opportunity. Last evening, the rain made my commute quite tiresome - over an hour in stop and go traffic with a stick shift (no, I did not kill the engine even once.) It was almost worth it this morning to see the view of the snow on the surrounding mountain peaks - that is, on the western side. The Dent de Crolles is not high enough to be covered as yet. The leaves are rapidly approaching their best viewing; and the trees grow right up a steeep slope to the base of the cliffs at the side of the Dent.
One of my colleagues laughingly stopped me on my way in to the office this morning and assured me that the only thing I lacked to be looking like a classical Frenchman on his way to work would be a baggette tucked under my arm. (My beret and leather pilot's jacket go over very well.) (Nancy has a high very French hat that she has yet to let me take a photo to show you.)
BBC TV leaves a bit to be desired - the most exciting shows on in the early evening are of a woman exploring hiking trails around Britain or another that has agencies seeking out possible heirs to estates where no will or local realtives can be found. (The woman really gets escited about abandoned rail beds turned into hiking trails.) I have begun reading books on my Kindle after exhausting the novels Nancy and I brought with us. (She is re-reading "My Life in France" by Juliet Childs.)
One more day till the weekend and some more exploring.
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