I’m going for my brainscan tomorrow; so I’ve decided to treat myself tonight.
It’s not that I’m particularly worried about the scan (apart from a nagging uncertainty that they won’t actually find any sign of a brain, at all!)
What really scares the hell out of me is that they are going to give me an injection first – AND I HATE INJECTIONS!
I returned to work (at the local pig abattoir), a few months ago.
Rather than returning my old department (Conditionment; where pork chops and other bits of dead pig are packed into boxes for freezing – and where my job was to put those boxes onto pallets), I now work in Formage Cartons.
That means I work with the team that makes all the boxes for the whole abattoir – it’s hard work!
On the whole, I was enjoying my new work (although, being based in the roof of the building did mean that it got very hot!)
Only time will tell if I can cope with that..
I am always overwhelmed by awe when I visit the fish market at Vannes.
I might be exaggerating slightly if I were to say that the fish there are so fresh that they are still wriggling but, it would be no exaggeration at all to admit that I can quite happily spend a whole hour wandering round the 30 or 40 stalls and, after a quick coffee, go back for more!
Most of my seafood is, however, bought from the fish stall at my local Saturday morning market at Josselin.
“It’s been an awful long time since I’ve updated this site. There’s a simple reason and I’d like to explain.
During 2006 and the start of 2007, I felt that I was getting very tired and, although my life was wonderful (disregading the old Bessie’s habit of breaking down whenever she was grumpy), I sort of knew that something was wrong.
The photo shows that I had been letting myself go a bit and had that haunted/tired look about me.
“A French Market is as much a social event as a shopping trip…..”
There’s something special about a French Market; somehow it epitomises much of what goes to create the unique character of France – the lack of haste (we’ll ignore the markets in Paris here because… Paris isn’t really France – it’s just London with style and class), the gentle friendliness of the people who live here and, above all, an abundance of great produce.
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