Actually, after doing yesterday's blog, we went to Excalibur to support our local pub, while he was still open. As he is officially a bar/restaurant, we had to have a small plate of tapas each, which was a real hardship, and I gather there was a steady flow of people out for one last session before December. It was a bitter sweet experience.
From 9pm last night we were under curfew, and once curfew was over, it was lockdown. I had to cut out an attestation from the newspaper before I could go up to the bakers for pains au chocolat and baguette, which made reading the paper later on a bit tricky. After that it was as before - or almost. There was more traffic noise than I had expected when I put the laundry out, and while I was at a work site nearer the airport, I saw and heard another Lear jet come into land, presumably more intensive care patients being moved out of Lyon and St Etienne.
Because, yes, I did need to go out and about to deal with garden type things, armed with another attestation and I was surprised at how many people were out and about. A major upside to the last confinement was the silence, so all you could hear were birds and insects and the wind in the leaves. Not so much this time it would appear, although as we move into November, it may quieten down I guess.
Anyway, out in the country, I could enjoy time with Fergus, and be astounded at the magnificence of the amaranth this year.
I could also admire the Brussel sprout plants. Those who know me well, know that I regard this vegetable as the work of the Devil, however John loves them, raw or cooked. We have a chunk of land that is solid clay, but that is where these magnificent specimens are growing. Not sure if they will ever have sprouts, but actually I do rather like the tops of the plants, steamed, so there might be something in it for me after all!
Yes, I know, the one with the pointy leaves isn't a Brussel sprout. It is actually a cauliflower - but I'm not sure it will ever have a curd in it.
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