Friday brings market day to our little town.
The main street is closed to cars and lined with booths selling everything from produce, meats, and cheeses to trinkets, clothing, and local wares.
We generally wander down around 11 am, pick up what we need, and then drop into Aubergine for lunch. David found a parking space not too far from the town center that was convenient except for only having 1/2 inch of space to get out on my side of the car. After giving him “the look” he sheepishly adjusted the parking to give me enough room to get out, and we strolled into town. Things were bustling, with a two-piece horn ensemble playing and plenty of action. We had a short list, mostly things we will need for Anne & Jay’s stay: sausages, faggot (another sausage), mini-faggot (you get the drift), Comté and Brie with truffles, tapenade, etc., plus some produce so we can have a small salad for dinner. There is little fresh produce – not the right time of year, so I went into the alimentaire and got some baby bibb heads, tomato, peppers, etc. All will be okay.
David rendezvoused with me at the Café du Centre and we relaxed for a bit to people/dog watch before heading off to Aubergine. We once again noticed that people tend to look like their dogs. Or is it vice versa? We thought about our little Lucy and decided that she had grown to look like us, and that she would be a disaster at the Marché as she does not play well with other doggies. As the market wound down, we were again impressed by the organization that the vendors display in setting up and then taking everything down at the end of the session. Trucks seemed to drive up in the right order to avoid a traffic jam and let everyone get out as quickly as possible.
We took our sack of goodies and strolled over to Aubergine. As the weather was a bit blustery, seating was inside, and Alex had reserved us a nice table. We relaxed with our usual kirs and perused the menu. David decided to go with Alex’s wonderful take on the U.S. burger, while I had cod. Alex’s burger is a visual delight, in that he stacks everything vertically – condiments, frites, etc. – instead of spreading them over the plate. Only the lack of really great ground beef diminishes the dish, but it’s still pretty nice. We went light on the wine, and just had a glass of Chateau Romanin rosé, and passed on the dessert that Alex offered. I had to get back to the house at three, as an old friend from the Rx biz had contacted us about getting some info from me about a reaction to a new home dialysis system that a client would be introducing, and I had agreed to a phone interview.
We scooted home, and I chatted with a very nice individual about my take. I hope I helped, but it’s really hard to relay reactions to dialysis to someone who is not on it – concerns with sterility, backup, etc., are more important than many of the bells and whistles that they think will be important. I kept saying that I went to the clinic rather than employing home dialysis because I wanted someone there if something went wrong. I hope I was able to help a bit.
David and I caught up on the blog and posting photos for a bit, then I made a small salad, loaded it up with the leftover chicken from earlier in the week, plus some lardon and a quick dressing. I guess it was good, as every morsel disappeared.
I guess our blog post saying less-than-kind-things about Brits hit some international nerves! Camilla’s press secretary sent an email to complain. David politely replied that they should be glad that we didn’t compare her to Mr. Ed, and that we were tired of our TV being crammed with an endless parade of homeless Brits who had emigrated to the US where they spent most their time telling all the viewers how much better things are in jolly old England. We get it when you call the 4th of July British Thanksgiving.” Very funny.
Tomorrow is dialysis, then get things in order for Anne and Jay’s arrival.