I had a really nice weekend. On Saturday I got up early and drove to yoga which I’m learning is always a bit wild on Saturday mornings. I’m not sure if it is the participants in the class that are boisterous, or that the moves are more challenging but it always seems to be a bit more than I expect. After yoga, I drove to Arielle Brocante which is open every other weekend in Gorron. I was looking for a simple fire pit base, a cheap lawn mower, and a side table. I found a sweet wooden side table and happily paid 8 euro after which I tossed it in my little Fiat and made my way to the grocery store.

I hate the grocery store in Gorron. It always feels cold, the people aren’t very friendly, they don’t have falafel, and it often smells of fish or dairy. The one thing that it does have is my new favorite peanut butter. It is crunchy and delicious and they only sell it at that store. Speaking of peanut butter, when you live alone you realize just how much of the stuff you eat. I can’t blame it on Parker or Lily or James. I can take down a jar in just under two weeks. Whoops.

After all my outings, I took Sophie for a long walk and then came back to the house and napped. After my nap, I worked out on the Peloton and drove to Mayenne for a late afternoon outing. I like the Maison France hardware and garden store down there and there is also a discount store called Action where I always manage to find some treasures. Both of these places were open late (in France that means past 5pm) so I did a bit of shopping and then plunked myself down in a cafe in the center of Mayenne for a glass of wine and a whole lot of people watching. It was fascinating to take in the different people, characters, and such. The goal was to sit there until I could pick up my Indian food at 6:45 (the earliest it was available). The wine was kind of sweet which I didn’t like, but the people watching was a 10 out of 10. There was a young man and his grandfather seated next to me. They were regulars and I knew this because they did the double kiss with the waitress. I think it is great when I see a young man and and an older man spending time companionably. The young man put down two crepes with Nutella as an early evening snack. The old man sipped a Perrier with some red syrup… I’m not sure what the flavor of the red stuff was.

There was the requisite “crazy” man, who talked out loud, nonstop, to no one in particular. A group of younger kids was egging him on but it seemed there was no harm intended. Some men with motorbike helmets sat behind me and sipped espressos and smoked like chimneys. Across the street and at the two bars adjacent to me, were several intoxicated men and couples out for a drink in the sunshine. The weather started to turn by the time I was leaving and when I opened my car door with my delicious take away, big fat drops started to fall from purple clouds. The drive home was interesting. The road was flooded by a torrential downpour. At times it felt my little car was floating more than driving. At last returned home, to my puppy who was shaking from the thunder. I enjoyed my curry and shared a bit of my riz basmati to keep Sophie from having a complete storm induced melt down.

Sunday was chicken parmigiana midday feast for the boys followed by a couple of sunny hours in the garden digesting and dead heading my pulmonaria. All in all perfect.