WhatADifferenceADayMakes

By Veronica

Alternative facts

It didn't look exactly like this. But I like the distortion.

I have been form-filling the last couple of days. After six months I finally had a letter from the French pension authorities. But it wasn't my pension ... it was to ask me to supply details of every job I had prior to March 1983. I guess this wouldn't pose a problem for some people, but it did for me. I don't even know how many jobs I had in that time. Because I was an archaeologist, most jobs lasted only a couple of months and were all over the place. In some of them I didn't get paid a salary so they don't count. And that's before you add in the vacation jobs I did when I was a student. I need hardly say I no longer have any payslips or other evidence.

Part of the process was quite enjoyable as it involved us reminiscing about our peripatetic youth. At one point we got the old photo albums out to figure out where we were when. Or I'd say something like, "When I was working in Clapham I remember going to Robin's house to watch the Wimbledon final between Borg and McEnroe." Cue Google to find out when that was (spoiler: they played two in consecutive years). We still ended up with odd gaps or confusion about the sequence of events. I've got to the point now where I'm not prepared to do any more digging though. I will just have to submit it with disclaimers as to its dubious accuracy.

It was such a lovely day that this afternoon we went for a walk up to the bergerie and back. The outward part was along S's path, which is still too steep for me. As usual S strolled along as if he was in the park, while I stumbled after him slipping on stones, tripping over tree roots, and getting stuck on the barbed wire fence we had to climb over. When we got there A wasn't there, sadly, so no cup of tea. But we did pause to say hello to his pet sheep (see extra for them apparently having a conversation, probably concerning their disappointment that we hadn't brought any food). And on the way back down the track, we met A anyway.

Tired now, but the woodburner's lit, the cat's on my lap, and S is cooking dinner.

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