On getting on

Wait, what's all this? Monday here and we're back to work.  Or so I woke up thinking. It's quite a nice thing, dreaming about normal things like beautiful women and wide open countryside.  Up until recently dreams have been of bringing a thesis paper to turn in, and finding myself with a ream of blank, white papers, which promptly turn into a handful of maggots as soon as I realize that I'm wearing an unflattering shakespearian codpiece in place of trousers.  

It's pretty nice to not have to worry about writing thesis papers.  In fact, I think I might missphell something just for fun.  That sorta thing's allowed in "blogging" right?  Who cares, I'm in France now and happily re acclimated to the traveller's world of visitings, drinking, noncommittal commitments and vague conversation.  This has been aided by early morning runs up and down hills, through countryside.  Wine.  Rich food.  English people who like being expats.  French people who don't mind French-speaking English expats. And more wine.  

 So what's gone on? Well, the weather's been good by all standards, in the mornings before I run I can see the Pyrenees to the south.  As the sun comes up it hits the snow on them for a short while before hazing them out of sight.  The last few days have been awash in eating, drinking, talking to nice people or trying to string enough cognates together to understand and then cobble together enough Franglais to reply intelligently.  This has had mixed results.  The French don't seem to mind my slaughter of their language, but rather appreciate the effort.