Work it out on a lovely morning while Jason and Kat sleep in and BW heads out to do some photography. Add a swim, some hot tub jets. Jason and Kat surface, head off to take their walk. Think about work. Decide not to think about work and read instead.
[Please note, due to a warp in the time/space continuum — and snarky wifi — these are Kat/Jason’s photos from Saturday. — L]
[Here are BW’s photos from Sunday. ~L]
Hours of nothing much.
Everybody comes back, and nothing much continues very well.
I think being unused to nothing much my confused and relaxed system thought it was bed time. I drop out for a good hour on the sofa terrace.
But now it’s time for something more. Stagger off to the shower to clean up and wake up. We’re heading up to the hotel for their Sunday Pasta Corner. And as we start out, I realize it’s the first time I’ve left the villa the entire weekend.
Pasta Corner’s popular for a reason. Lots of families already seated–lots of Brit accents tonight. We opt for the whole buffet–that’s antipasto, pasta, dessert. For the first two it’s a build/choose your own from many options. First the extensive, colorful, fascinating antipasto bar. Fields greens, multiple types of olives and tomatoes, stuffed peppers, cheeses, fresh herbs, mushrooms. Big balls of mozzarella swimming in water. Breads, breads, breads.
We sit in the bright evening–and don’t forget the wine (wonderfully smooth). A family comes in with a little boy–maybe three–who is decidedly not happy to be there. Before long he makes his displeasure well known. I watch the mom carry him over to the lobster tank. This erases all displeasure. Lobster magic.
Now to choose pasta, sauce, additions to the sauce. BW goes for pistachio pesto. He’s a pistachio kind of guy. I’m red sauce with basil and garlic and marjoram.
And it’s a happy, relaxed, satisfying meal all around as the long twilight comes and goes, and the stars begin to wake.
They have a limoncello baba for dessert. There are other offerings here, but I don’t see beyond the baba. It’s just exquisite.
The walk back–and there’s the Bg Dipper in a crystal clear sky–isn’t nearly long enough.
We hang out in our living area, check the news. RIP Jerry Lewis. I recall a story when my father–a stage hand at that time–met him, and the inscribed lighters Jerry gave every member of the crew on the show. Thinking back deeper this morning, this was either at The National or The Carter Baron in DC, and Lewis played The Devil in Damn Yankees. Nearly sure of that, though I was very young. BW remembers seeing him in Hellza Poppin’, and Jason heard a story about him going out the Stage Door to greet and spend time with a woman with MD.
The French President has called for a national day of mourning.
Today we’re taking a day trip to the French Grand Canyon. I can’t remember the name of the gorge–but will have it for tomorrow’s blog. The last time we were here, we drove the couple of hours, but there was tremendous fog, and we saw nothing but the thick curtain of mist. Today’s clear and bright, so we should have a fine view.
May have to shorten today’s workout as we want to leave around ten. Dinner at the villa tonight so we can stream some footage of the eclipse we’re missing.
There’s mist rising off the hot tub in the morning cool. I should carve out time for that.