Beware of the animals

Our friends in Castres moved house today, so I headed down earlyish to pick up their kids to have them out of the way for the day. First we headed along to the MBH where the other kids were delighted not only that we were there, but also had brought more kids, and this time ones who speak French.

After some clearing out of the soon-to-be-utility room and some attaching of wooden straps to the wall, it was lunch time. (Funny how quickly you accept without question the local custom that you should head home for a proper sit down 2 hour lunch, rather than just grab a sandwich at the site.)

It was just too hot really for the kids to hang out at the site all day (real scorcher today - I think it's building up for a storm) so Mr B headed back to finish some things off while I stayed behind to supervise the kids and get some things organised on the phone - like an electricity supply for the MBH (as an aside, after what felt like hours on hold waiting for EdF to answer the phone, it was only when I was hollering at Conor to not slam the doors that the nice polite EdF lady answered the phone. I'm surprised she didn't hang up straight away.)

The kids fought so much about the rules for water fights that that attempt to cool down was abandonned and I sent them all inside to cool down. Amazingly, my suggestion of an enormously complicated set-up using the Playmobil kits worked out well, and we ended up with this being moved out to the terrace so the train set could be added. Here is the African Safari section of the adventure train journey, the spooky train tunnel serving admirably as a low level tripod.

After a quick (and very crowd-pleasing) pizza and ice cream dinner (though I did nearly break poor M who has an amazing tolerance for very strong chilli flavours - but not enough for a tablespoon of chilli flakes AND a chilli off my chilli plant... on one slice of pizza. She sensibly asked for chocolate to take away the sting. Not daft that one.) we headed back to Castres to return the kids, and inspect the new house - huge and with (drumroll) a pool. And we're delighted to note that the guest quarters are within easy staggering distance of the dining room.

Late back home meant little photo opportunity. I was going to give you a shot of Big Cyril* in his plastic wrap for the night, but it makes me feel too sad.

* I know I shouldn't give plants names, particularly not tomato plants which - no matter how big - are annuals and regardless of rodent action speeding their demise, will not see out the autumn. But Big Cyril stuck and now I can't un-name him.