Louis XV

This is my Louis XV chair, which with folies de grandeure I think of as my 'reading chair'. It's right below the window where the resident smokes his Galois and looks out at the Loire.

I went to La Souris Gourmande for lunch, and a fellow diner was a famous person. I didn't recognise him myself, but people came up to him and asked for selfies. All I can say is that he wore immaculately white trainers, and that he ate fondue with two friends.

You distracted me there, but in that chair I was reading C. P. Snow's The Sleep Of Reason. I think he may be one of my favourite authors. There's a bit where he says that free will may not exist, but you have to go in as though it did. It's not a very satisfactory answer to the problem, but it's the same (provisional) conclusion I've come to.

Well the task for me now is to find a suitable bar to watch France v. Romania in the opening game of Euro 2016.


Mon Ami Jaeger

He's allowed on the chairs at the café!

Hello Again Jaeger

Through a great green front door, thick with decades of layers of paint. Up ancient, rickety, Dickensian stairs in the gloom, each step yielding a creak. Then into the apartment looking out onto the Loire in the dazzling sun.

I've renewed my friendship with the black Labrador called Jaeger at Les Blancs Manteaux, and thereby came to an act of civic heroism. An elderly man walking a small dog was trying to hold back the Jaeger, but was too frail. I promptly grabbed Jaeger by the collar and the old man gratefully carried on his way. The people of the town have commissioned a statue in honor of my bravery.

The Loire burst its banks in the deluge, and there are still parts of the riverside path that are inundated. Walking along, a woman on a bike stopped and asked if the way I had come was flooded. I replied that it wasn't flooded, and it was clear for her to keep cycling along. She didn't seem to grasp what I was saying, and so I became quite insistent that the way was clear. This went on for some time until she pointed behind her at a flood that I was about to encounter. It dawned on that she hadn't been asking me about her way ahead, she had been warning me about my way ahead. I laughed, but she did not.

Even though I'm a hypochondriac, I'm convinced I've got a sleeping disorder.