It's Friday. Ten minutes ago, or so it seemed, it was Monday.
The days pass at supersonic speed.
Okay, we tend to stay in bed until 9 and maybe we could pick up time by rising earlier. But time is spent reading, drinking tea, sharing ideas, plans, good writing with my husband. It gentles us into the day.
And sometimes by the time the morning necessities -- meds, shower, dressing, breakfast -- are over, it is time to run down the street for fresh bread, veggies and other things for lunch. Unless, of course one of us decides to "cook" at one of the local or not-so-local restaurants. We have been known to cross the border into Spain, for those great buffets. In France or go to France if we are in Geneva. Takes as long as going a couple of towns away, but it still pushes the clock.
Some days we get caught up in paperwork. Other days we are lost in our writing.
And I try to work on both in polishing my French and recapturing my German. After all, working in second and third languages are good stimulation for the brain. C'est vrai.
We can't forget friends whether the formal plans for an apèro or a meal are decided, often last minute. But equally impromptu is walking by La Noisette or Mille et Une and seeing a friend having a cup of coffee. People have precedence.
Then there's Sherlock and necessity walks or taking him to the beach or down to the river bed to let him run off his excess energy.
People drop in -- more to see Sherlock these days. Tea, biscuits, chat and ball throwing ensue.
Wednesdays and Saturdays are the marchés with all the vendors we have come to know: the brownie lady, for example. Friends gather at cafés and it is a good chat time.
Facebook traps us, but again people, people, people -- some from the past, some from current interests.
Nights in the summer can involve café sits at L'Hostalet where our friends congregate or curled up on the couch watching TV, Netlflix. Right now it is The Crown and Grace and Frankie.
Despite all the activities the to-do list still has things on it, usually the least appealing.
I am not complaining because everything, except maybe for the paperwork, I love.
But life seems like a beautiful sunset that only lasts a few minutes when we want it to last longer.