Where's the Hallal butcher when you need one?

William failed to show up this morning. Probably because I gave him such a sound beating on Monday but more likely because he is mulling over his political future at the moment and is considering whether to present himself for other high office. He has a lot on his mind - bless.

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I must be one of the few people I know who actually enjoys going to the dentist. (Is this the best you can do? - Ed.) I particularly enjoy having my teeth cleaned. You come out able to feel all the gaps in your teeth. Lovely! We also used the trip into Quissac to see if we can find a Hallal butcher. It's less about me trying to get Jan into a burkha (above) and more that we have a hallal meat eater visiting next week and we need to know where to shop. Find one we do, recently opened, right on the high street in Quissac. In searching for a picture of a burkha, I came across a picture of a camel trainer on his mobile. I'm not sure why I found this amusing, but I do.

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This afternoon we visited the Notaire for the official signing on the Compromis de Vente on our little house in the village. The procedure for buying and selling a house in France can be found here and it is quite straightforward and slightly less stressful than the English system. Anyway, this part of the process involved buyer and seller sitting in front of Maitre S whilst he goes through the contract, line by line, and satisfying himself that everyone knows what they are letting themselves in for. Fair but boring, especially as it ate into 20 minutes of the England match with Trinidad and Tobago. After a very frustrating and stressful 65 minutes of frankly poor play, England started to show a bit more flair and wrapped it up 2-0. What is it with these so called world class footballers? They certainly like to hide their talent!

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A few weeks ago, we received an invite to the re-opening of our favourite local restaurant, Le Fourneau de Clelia (Madame Chef has been ill). The few gatherings of this type that we have been to, show the French as a very hungry bunch and they do not stint when it comes to a free table. It appeared to us that what food had been put out had gone by the time we arrived and fresh stocks were surrounded by hordes, 10 people deep. We booked for Sunday night then we left and found a pizza place in Quissac!