Day started with a competitive and sporting theme which was to be a
foretaste of the whole period at Chez Cézarine. Table tennis practice
was followed by golf practice in the field at the back of Chez
Césarine. Irresponsibly, I set a poor example by losing two of Gavin's
golf balls which were last seen heading through the hedge into terrain
that was quite definitely unplayable. Despite placing a two pound
reward on each ball, their discovery by Henri and Christopher was never
made. I called off the search when the boys had climbed into the
neighbour's garden and I feared that the penalty for trespass far
outweighed the calamity of writing off two old golfballs - sorry Gavin.
P.m. went to the beach - Plouha. Nice beach, zero totty. On our return
trip nearly lost the inflatable dinghy which was inadequately strapped
on to the car roof-rack and unbeknown to us was in danger of becoming
airborne. Passing motorists were flashing their lights at us which, I
had wrongly assured Gavin, meant they were trying to forewarn us of an
imminent speedtrap. This theory turned out to be totally wrong. In fact
they were attempting to draw our attention to the fact the rubber
dinghy was about to be turned into a Zeppelin moored innovatively to
the roof of the car. Remedial action was taken on the hard shoulder and
we arrived home without further mishap.
The balmy evening (no pun intended) afforded us with fine opportunity
for the first of many barbecues in the field at Chez Cézarine.
Regrettably, my pyromaniacal urges were not satisfied by having the
barbecue located as far as possible from the dining table for safety
reasons. This meant the barbecue was set in isolation on the farthest
most side of the field about half a mile from the alfresco diners which
diminished the overall effect somewhat. Oh well perhaps I'm just old
fashioned.
The meal over, and the dining table cleared - Nige's despotic: "CLEAR
THAT TABLE!!!" outburst having seen to that - a fairly intense game of
cribbage ensued. An unreliable mathematical aptitude lent a distinct
handicap to my command of the game, but Nige and John Owen were in fine
form. I was drawn to speculate whether Nige spends his leisure hours in
gaming houses leading the hedonistic existence of a Hogarthian rake.
Although I am sure he would not admit to it. Nonetheless, the aplomb
with which he declared a Muggins on John was a delight to witness.
Sadly the defeat plunged John and Jacqui into an argument about who had
caused the game to be lost. Even so Nige was undeniably the winner due
to John's error in the cards he put down. Not long after the game was
brought to a close.