Scorching hot and happy

I can't help but notice that words such as dank, dark, rain and autumnal are creeping up on us but if you are looking for that here then stop reading right now.

Yesterday as I contemplated having my entire 'dolls house' to myself (my nickname for Le Chateau) and relished a day of play in moving furniture and generally titivating overall I thought of some of the very many readers who peek in from around the World. What is it that attracts you so ? I floated, rather like a giant frog on a lily pad on the bright yellow lilo being swirled gently by the water pump of the swimming pool. The sky above was the sort of piercing blue that could hurt your eyes. The startling green leaves of the fig tree seemed almost fluorescent to me. Every so often a gentle thud announced the fall of another over ripe and squishy fig. From my languid position I could squint at my house and wonder as to the events that led me here. It was funny, when I was a small girl all I ever wanted was a large dolls house filled with lovely pieces of furniture so I could happily wile away the hours moving the pieces around as I pleased. And so as I pushed the feelings of guilt away for daring to stop toiling and lifted my face momentarily to the sun I toyed mentally with rooms and how I could adapt them to the coming seasons. I suppose it was work of sorts.

However I am well aware that none of you are so shallow that you would pop by simply to keep being force fed descriptions of sumptuous sun and idyllic moments. No sireee it is time I came clean with you all and described truthfully one of my days to you.

Saturday called for my new white linen dress to be worn, enhanced only by a simple piece of jewellery (diamonds) and a hint of Clinique lip gloss. One of my guests who just happens to be on his fifth visit now had invited a friend over to view Le Chateau. I had drawn the thick linen drapes to keep out the sun and hastily applied lashings of old fashioned wood polish to the panelling in the hallway so that on arrival they would be captivated.

Lunch was suggested and who am I to be so busy I can't pop out for a spot of luncheon ? I suggested we go straight to Domaine Gayda a restaurant and cave situated in the foothills of the Pyrenees. Crisply folded starched tablecoths and napkins are just my thing on occassions and I thoroughally enjoyed a fois gras accompanied by a chilled glass (or two) of Viognier.

Afterwards back at Le Chateau with the Grand Duchess parked on the driveway, alas she was rather put out to be sharing space with a gleaming black BMW and a turbo charged black Porche, a quick trip roaring around the village ensued my reputation as a hard worker with no time for fun remained intact.

I wouldn't want any of you to think otherwise.