Alan Rickman

Years back, when I was a student at the Royal College of Art, one of my classmates decided to leave the course a year before graduating because he had some some daft idea of becoming an actor. Naturally, I told him he should stay on for the final year, get his degree, then have a crack at this acting lark and if it didn't work out he'd still be qualified as a designer. But no, he wouldn't have it so he left. Then I heard he'd somehow fiddled his way into RADA. A couple of years later I saw him on telly playing Obadiah Slope in The Barchester Chronicles. Didn't think much of it but best of luck sunshine, looks like you've achieved your ambition and become an small-time actor. Hope it works out. Follow your dream. Maybe one day you'll become a star. Or maybe not. Who knows.

  

Parasite

Went to Aubusson yesterday for a blood test. Have to do that before my regular three-monthly check ups at the doctor's. When he gets the test results he gives us an in-depth report on my physical condition and then prescribes medication to put right whatever's going wrong. Anyways, I don't particularly like going for a blood test as it involves being stabbed by a needle and drained of blood. I call them my Dracula visits. Which reminds me, I was attacked by an aggresive, slimy, vicious and extremely spiteful hirudinea (if you don't know what it is, look it up) a few decades back. Slithering pondlife. Scarred for life.

 

74

We should now be slobbing around on Formentera but, due to this Covid-19 plague, we ain't. We cancelled the jolly holiday jaunt after news of nearby Ibiza and its airport (the airport wot we would pass through twice in order to get to and from Formentera) being invaded by loadsa young Brits who couldn't give a monkey's about contacting this killer disease and the possibility of infecting others. Maybe we'll get there again next year. Or maybe not. Who knows. 

Anyways..., as a birthday outing we headed yesterday for a lakeside restaurant just south of Sardent which is just south of Gueret. Messaged the owners (British, apparently) via Facebook the day before asking if the restaurant would be open. They answered 'yes'. Arrived there at 1pm. Shut. Closed. Fermé. Bugger. Won't be going there again. What is wrong with these people?

Plan 'B'. Georgie's suggestion. Lake Vassivière. Arrived there at around 2pm. Sauntered into a Bistro at 2.05. Five minutes late for a lunch snack. Had a small beer. Figured we were at the north end of the big lake so we should head for the east side as that was the side nearest our direction home. Found a simple sort of lakeside restaurant on the way that seemed to be open. Asked if lunch would be possible. 'Oui, no problem'. Shared a pizza and peach melba with Geo and a few wasps, plus a glass of rosé and a coffee. Not bad for €20. Then headed down the lane towards the lake, not really expecting to find anything special. But, big surprise, there was a sandy beach, nay, two or three sandy beaches, plus a café/bar, enough smiley people but not too many, a kiddies' swimming area plus a grown ups' with an attendant lifeguard, and a welcome air of being on a French holiday with sunshine. Didn't have a swim but may do in the next week or two if the sunny weather holds up.