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good friday

April 6, 2007

Bluebells.JPGPerhaps as a result of a Catholic upbringing, I have always feared and loathed Good Friday. When I lived in London, no matter where I was, or who I was with, I always felt that there was more fun to be had elsewhere.

So I am happy to find that in France Good Friday is just another working day. The Man arrives in the morning with croissants but I am stroppy with him as he has not been paying me enough attention lately. I tell him I am just on my way out.

‘Where are you going to Minx?’ he asks.

‘The recycling bins,’ I reply huffily, unable to think of anything more exciting.

Unfortunately, I am wearing a blue and white paisley print smock top (acquired on my recent shopping spree in London) with jeans. It is very Woodstock hippy and very ‘of the moment’ but, unfortunately, on me, it is not a very good look. It is difficult to be taken seriously in such a get-up. The Man calls again after lunch and asks if I would like to go for a bike ride at about 4.30pm. This is devious as he knows that I will never, ever say no to cycling in the French countryside.

Bluebells, daisies and buttercups have all pushed up through the ground in the few days since I last went cycling. The countryside is beautiful in the spring sunshine, even if we are having a raucous argument as we breeze past the suddenly lush green fields.

We stop in a secluded spot overlooking a river and I berate him for only sending one text while I was in London. Then he gets his revenge by asking me to sit among the bluebells - and it transpires stinging nettles - so that he can take a photo. My hands are badly stung but at least he finds me some dock leaves to wrap around them.

comments (3)

1. Posted by lesley saunders on April 11, 2007 1:36 PM

Hey! Being a blogger virgin I'm not sure what a URL is, or even HTML tags... however, I agree about Good Friday. I was also brought up a Catholic, and hated Easter as there were two holy days of obligation in a single weekend, which meant you spent most of the holiday in church. As the teenage years encroached, I found Mass a useful spare hour during which I could sit quietly and think deep thoughts.. usually about all the sinful things I would like to do to my current boyfriend.... Speaking of which, when can we find out more about The Man? Is he secretly the plumber?

2. Posted by Lulu B on April 20, 2007 6:56 PM


I can't think of a better way to spend Good Friday than cycling through fields of bluebells in the French countryside.


3. Posted by Jo on May 4, 2007 8:05 AM

Actually, the man sounds an absolute sweety. I'm sure you don't deserve him. Being now a French-country yokel and irredeemably out of touch with London fashion, is woodstock hippy gear really back in? Yippee!

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