A week in the life of Jules

I have just eaten a Hot Cross Bun downed with a very large glass of port.  This is on top of dinner and two glasses of white wine… It’s school holidays with all its madness, I have the remnants of flu, four mouth ulcers  and no driving license – I ran a red light last year and me voilà a pedestrian for the month of April. 

I caught the flu at the writing course at Charney Manor.   I  sat next to lovely Rhys from Wales and his  erm…. flu germs.  It did cross my mind, as he pulled the chair away next to mine, that I should move as I had spotted his red nose and heard his congested voice earlier, but a quick look around the room confirmed that there were only the number of chairs as there were participants, which were all taken, and in any case that would be rude. 

Wouldn’t it?

 As he coughed and spluttered turning as best he could away from me, I kept telling myself, you won’t get it, think positively and you won’t get it.  He even gave me an orange in the break “for extra vitamin C“, he’d said in his lilting Welsh accent, so I could hardly say sniffily in return,

  “If you don’t mind I’m going to move elsewhere.” 

My skiing was buggered as I lay feverish in bed, but Happy Heidi our neighbour in the mountains invited us for a casual raclette in the Carnotzet so I staggered down there in my edelweiss slippers, greasy hair and no make-up to find, to my horror, that there were about 30 trendy fit people all dressed in Mover outfits and I was underwhelming them.  I slunk into the corner with a pot of mint tea and listened as they talked about skiing ”le backside” of Mont Fort (snigger) and Mont Gelée this and Gentiane that all night.  I have skied in Verbier for 15 years but  when I and my family talk about particular pistes we talk in terms of restaurants.  The long run down from Chezy Danny or that path that leads to the fondue cabin…  Different strokes for different folks, as they say.  After an hour and 45 mins when they’d moved onto Heliskiing in Turkey and the wearing of ski masks in Vail,  I excused myself and snuck upstairs back to my duvet and  my new box set of Private Practice.  

Now Mr. Jules has caught la Crève (translation the knackering thing) and is not a happy bunny.  He  keeps saying “You should have moved away from him…” in an accusing way.  Subtext: you give me a flu virus AND I have ALL the driving.  

As for the wine and port well, I went bikini shopping with Sophie G today.   The shop lady didn’t even bother with woe begone sniffling old me.  It didn’t help that the flu has meant I can’t exercise and thus everything has gone AWOL in just one week.  How does that happen?  That is so cruel.  I even bought myself a special hoola hoop this year with extra nodules which are supposed to massage the wobbly parts away from a very serious website in Swiss Germany.

How is your week going?