And so Monday rolls around once more, me facing it with as much enthusiasm as Tony Blair.

The weather seems to be coming out in sympathy, the dark clouds drawing themselves across the sky as soon as the weekend closes, as if they were curtains being drawn to signify the end of a performance. "Thats yer lot"

So, weary, tired and still suffering cheese-induced sleep hallucinations, the working week soon extinguishes the happiness of the weekend.

The weekend is like a comfy pair of trainers - slip them on and theres an instant contentedness; no pain, just a nice fit.

The week is like a new pair of shoes - Monday is the first wear; ill-fitting, stiff and uncomfortable; slightly more bearable as you get a few days under your belt, but always with that nagging feeling that youd rather not be wearing them; like when youre a kid and have to put your best outfit on to go to a family get-together.

When you finally get to take them off and slip back into your trainers, it feels like nirvana. So when Monday rolls round again, that instant unease takes over, and you just want to shout in a sulky tantrum "...aw mum, s'not fair, i dont wanna wear em".
_______

The cheese count was phenomenal this weekend. 8 different varieties, plus 3 cracker variants, red and green grapes, and a bottle of Red, naturally.
As mentioned before, the French Market was in town, and so it was only rude not extend the hand of friendship and sample some fromage francais. 4 for a fiver too, what a bargain. Stinks mind you, and Im not sure the Camembert wouldnt have slid out the fridge and attempted to find its way back home if it hadnt been wrapped up. It does become a matter of pride after a while though - "must....try...one...more..." - but you just cant help yourself. I think Sundays were meant to end with that, the filling fulfilling end to a filling weekend.
It was a very content feeling Sunday. Early to rise, followed by a breakfast so good and healthy its like sunshine in a bowl. Invigorating shower. The suns trying its hardest still, but no matter. Even when it doesnt quite successfully grapple with the clouds, the setting is just too nice to put a dampener on things. A leisurely stroll through the quaint quiet streets, sighs of wistful wishfulness dreaming of owning one of the many stunning houses. A visit to a little local food emporium. Roaming the castle ruins.
Parking my paleness on the lush green grass. Sunday papers, so big that opening them up threatens to take up all the empty space.

And all done with the most ideal of company.
________________________

I would just like to finish with a snippet of a conversation from Saturday evening.

C: Im just going to clean the plates, wont be long.

J: Youre going to get a Crab Pallette?

C: Err...

There were others. I think another one yesterday morning was:

C: Honestly, does this look ok? (referring to my clothes)

J: What? Do you have an olive in your eye?

C: {Speechless}.