Planning a wedding in France is complicated. I have been a bit ambitious in asking the mayor if he’ll marry my son and his fiancée even though they don’t live here, happily he doesn’t see it as a problem, maybe because I gave him several kilos of Mirabelle plums from our trees earlier this year. I have spoken to the catholic priest who will let them use the local church, despite being C of E, and to the English speaking chaplain prepared to marry them even though the fiancée is neither baptised nor confirmed. Maybe the fact that our son could tick both those boxes helped (I paid him £20 to get confirmed at boarding school.) A further development this morning was arranging a meeting with the marquee man, I am a bit worried that he might tell us that it isn’t feasible to put a marquee and dance floor on a sloping lawn; maybe if it is a problem we could get a few lorry loads of topsoil to create a flat area for the dance floor and adjust table legs so things don’t slide off the tables set on the area where there is a bit of an incline.
It was good French lesson, I think we are all trying a bit harder since the arrival of the new pupil who has been here only 2 years and speaks better French than the rest of us. The weather broke during the morning, a clear blue sky when we arrived but there was a fine drizzle by the time we left. I do hope it is snowing in the mountains.
The conservatory men were here most of the day, but progress is slow. They are constantly referring to their ‘how to build a conservatory’ manual. It looked much the same when they left as it did when they arrived this morning.