A picture of a picture of a cat called Patch, which belongs to a sadly delusional chap auditioning for the X Factor. That’s how Saturday night rolls chez nous.
(We stop watching after all the remaining contestants can actually sing).
Oops! We accidentally miscalculated the length of our holiday and it turns out we’re going home tomorrow, not on Wednesday. I feel more stupid than you can imagine. Still, at least we realised before, not when it was too late.
We will see our four furry chums this time tomorrow with just one day of hard driving in between. For today’s cat, I bring you a tacky postcard photographed in Rouen a couple of days ago.
One of the many brilliant things about being on holiday is escaping from the television and having only a sparing amount of Internet access. This allows me to persuade my husband and children to play board games with me. We have screamed with laughter three nights running playing Pictionary. Here you see Isobel proudly displaying her cat drawing. In the other picture, she added detail for the blog.
We’ll play Articulate tonight, I think.
Today has been a scorcher here in Normandy, where it’s been over 30 degrees. We didn’t have the energy to go far, so we just pootled a few kilometres inland to the picturesque village of Beuvron-en-Auge for lunch. It was all half-timbered buildings, little bric-à-brac shops and geraniums.
Sadly, although our lunch was delicious, the service in our chosen crêperie was dreadful, as it has been each time we have eaten out this week. I guess we aren’t big-spending enough. Or maybe the famously rude French are just living up to their reputation.
This tiny wooden cat was for sale at a beautiful traditional toy shop and we had fun with the sign outside.
On the way back we stopped at a tiny Commonwealth Cemetery at the minuscule village of Putot-en-Auge to visit the graves of soldiers who almost all died on the 19th and 20th of August 1944. With a few exceptions, they were between 19 and 21 years old. Poor boys.
These ceramic cats were for sale in a little expensive, arty shop in Honfleur yesterday. This sort of thing doesn’t tempt me and nowadays I always think of it as ‘cat tat’, since Helen Daykin introduced me to the phrase. It’s been a glorious day here in Normandy, full of good food, swimming pools and sunshine.
We are on our way to France for our annual holiday and are spending the night in Ashford in Kent (cheaper than Dover) before catching an early ferry tomorrow morning.
My brother is working at Dover Castle this weekend, so we popped down to have dinner with him. For the next 10 days or so, I will have to improvise cat pictures for my blog and here is my first effort; a cat charity shop we spied in Dover town centre.