Lame Ducks

Several weeks of enforced brain digestion come slowly to an end, leading to strange coincidences…

My incarceration nearly over, I attempt outings to town:

…and to the market, where Christian brags to Lisa about length. Lisa finds this amusing.

After this success, I attempted a more distant excursion, heading into the local hills, and heading for disaster.

Although Cordes sur Ciel may be beautiful (as in the photo below which depicts a shop entrance with a banner appearing to say ‘delicious terror’) it is also treacherous, as Angela discovered when attempting man-powered flight walking down the steep cobbled streets, finally coming to rest in Albi hospital. Whilst there, a phone call informed us that Sophie had tried a similar thing from her brand new scooter. Brand new no longer. Sophie now has joined the growing 'Legion of the Lame’ along with Angela and I.

The scooter is no more.

Whatever we do, wherever we go, here’s where we end up. There’s Angela hiding her war wounds behind Annick.

Sisters in arms.

Taking our lives in her hands, Annick took the Legion of the Lame up to our building site in the Pyrénées:

Being cripples doesn’t stop us enjoying ourselves. This photo was taken in our favourite restaurant on the planet. Atop the Pyrénées.

Talking of lame ducks…

Next episode: Phil, after turning wine into 'water’, takes up his bed and walks. Then has his sight removed. Bummer.

Eye surgery here we come…

Here’s a few pix…

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