Tea or coffee?

I had plumbers in to upgrade various bits of the house. The first morning, they arrived an hour early, awaking me brutally from a deep coma. I ran around totally ineffectually for ten minutes before getting my bearings. They later departed, leaving a half-finished shower and sink along with vague commitments as to their return.

On my daughter’s instructions, I’ve started offering workmen (workpersons?) coffee or tea. I have not done this in 20 years. Not drinking either myself, it just didn’t occur to me. To my shock, they all accept. Which a) is a real bore and b) probably means that, in all this time, i SHOULD have been offering. Although, frankly, they look quite shocked too. I can’t decide if that’s because it’s not done in France, or because I’ve never offered anything before. I blame my daughter anyway.

I spent the day in Switzerland on Friday, stocking up on essentials. The girls put in a special request for packets of physalis — a type of dried fruit. Only they call them syphilis. In effect, they beg me to come back with syphilis. I’m still getting used to this.