Frittering away

A bunch of pumpkin flowers from the garden just before they were dipped in batter and turned into fritters as a tasty nibble before lunch today.
Daughter E and her partner S are here for a few days, and we have settled to what they recognise as a routine in my village: some work in the garden, a lot of time spent cooking and eating, and late nights out with our friends.
Last night a group of eleven of us went to the Feria in Beziers - well, strictly speaking, we went to the Vilatge Occitan where we ate and drank well in a family atmosphere - the space and the catering are run by parents of children at local calandretas - Occitan primary schools. The came a show from Goulamas'K - the first time I've seen them live and an amazing high-energy performance, with rhythms, tunes and instruments changing on a heartbeat, seemingly telepathically. In Occitan, golamas means a rude, unmannered, greedy person, but the appearance of the band belies their extraordinary musicianship. I asked my daughter what sort of music she thought it was: 'Sort of anarcho-metal punk Occitan folk' she said, and I think that's more or less it. More on them from another Blip fan here.
Back late, and a jazz festival and another big evening meal with friends to fit in before the end of the weekend. What's frittering and what's normal life? I lose track sometimes.