Sunday August 21st

Right now I am buzzed on three little Leffe beers after drinking three liters or more of water during the day.

.

Must have been more...

This is summer in south west France: During the night there was a storm strong enough to blow away our camping furniture and keep everyone awake. And during the day we must have had 36 degrees in the shade.

That might not sound like much in America, but let me tell you, it makes you thirsty in France. Not a cloud in sight after ten in the morning.

We take Saturdays off, so that there’s a chance of doing stuff with places open for business, which makes Sundays into workdays. And this one was one worthy of it’s name.

Today’s task was to make the contrefiches. Which is basically just a fancy french name for a brace that is in a truss.

These pieces are small enough to be worked under the protection of our little tent. That survived this nights storm almost unharmed.

In the afternoon I tried myself at the layout of an arbaletrier. Which is basically just a fancy french name for a principal rafter. Unfortunately that stack of monsters is on the back of the building without much of any shade. And from four to six thirty pm the sun still has plenty of umpf to take in out of you. After eight is when you can sit in the sun and it does not instantly induce perspiration.

I am taking no chances and am in my little cubby hole / cave and am listening to lovely Norah Jones while I type this. Seeking out the internet would be a smart thing, to find out whether or not the crane guy has bothered to answer during his vacation. And to post this. And to see if anyone still thinks of me while I’m in this gulag for penguins.

I can’t tell you how much I am jonesing a trip to Bradfords Liquors...

All right. Getting too close to self pity. Enough for today.

Be well!