I got mum to the surgery first thing this morning and, having seen the effort we had made to get details from the UK, the doctor kindly obliged and wrote a prescription for mum's missing medicine. One job completed satisfactorily.
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Later this morning Vincent and Francoise called round to establish what was wrong with my two vines. Grief, this couple farm 30 hectares of vines so a problem with my two piddly things should not be a problem. It took them all of 5 seconds to identify that they have a bad attack of mildew, not that I could identify it and, come to think of it, they had mildew last year as well. Bum, bum, and thrice bum. Each year I learn a little more about growing grapes but unfortunately I don't learn enough each year, so I estimate that by 2020 I'll be an expert, but dead.
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Despite still not feeling too good after a last night's big (in every sense of the word) BBQ, we all popped over to Sommieres for the Fete de la Musique, and dinner at Elie's. I can't say that either was brilliant. Elie needs to change his menu and the music was just OK.
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