To Carcassonne this afternoon with The Small Cross One. Every year it's the same old story. Back to school for the winter term and the heating is religiously turned up to maximum setting. For the first couple of years 2b and The Small Cross One struggled to concentrate as they fought with the desire to completely don summer attire in the midst of winter or occasionally pluck up the courage to ask for the window to be opened. They were, quite obviously, viewed with a mixture of curiosity and sympathy.
But now they are blending in seamlessly as teenagers do. From the outside at least no-one would suspect that they live in a home 'sans chauffage'. Bedroom windows and shutters are religiously tightly closed and woollen scarves worn at all times wound around the neck to keep the germs at bay, absolutely 'de rigeur'.
Which means that instead of enjoying this afternoons sunshine I'm going to be subject to looking at garments which don't seem to, in any way, reflect the climate outside despite it being November.
Mind you, I might just get my revenge and suggest a visit to The Instruments of Torture at La Cité de Carcassonne.