Elder

After a well deserved lie-in for Mr B, time in which I did a week's washing by hand (the washing machine is still in Scotland), we headed off to the vide grenier. Katherine bargained well and got an only slightly damaged toy rocking cot for a knock down 50 centimes; while Conor was well and truly had by a 9 year old girl who got one euro from him for a small toy dog.

There being no suits of armour that took our fancy, Mr B and I left empty handed.

Home for lunch, lazing in the sunshine, some fixing of stuff, and a visit from our landlord and his electrician to fix the oven. Of course the oven performed perfectly as soon as the electrician arrived - though he kindly came up with an explanation that didn't make us look like total idiots.

The afternoon was a blur of sorting through the huge bag of school equipment and labelling every item with the relevant kids' name (every coloured pencil, every felt tip). They don't mention that in the 'live the dream' adverts. Then filling in the many registration forms and trying to give info about Conor's allergies in French. Tomorrow will be the first time he'll have been away from us for such a long stretch of time (nearly 8 hours) except with relatives. I think I'm more nervous than either of them. Katherine rates her fear as 10 out of 10, but her excitement at the same level too.

I am dreading 8.45am, and will be wishing away the day until 4.30pm.

On the plus side, it's forecast to be a scorcher so I'm sure there'll be some time for lazing in the hammock.