When it pours

When you live in a cabanon and the weather starts its thing, after you turn over over all the chairs, if you can, you then grab the cloths from every table, the books if you were reading something, and thank your lucky whatever if you can find a place to place yourself inside -- although of course, you prefer always to be OUTSIDE. Yesterday a wonderful winding trip to Gordes and then to neighbors, and today, after the rain, the outside market and dinner iwht our friends up the hill, and tomorrow, the wonderful artist-poet Ruth Middleton to lunch, and our translator writer friends Anne Reynes and her husband Philippe and then Matthew and Theodore arrive, and so goes the week. After the rain, that is.