Before I crack on, I am told that this is the 60th post of The Stand Off and The Seine. Begun in June, we now have 3 official followers and a few more unofficial but just as appreciated regulars. I'd like to think I would still do it if no one was reading it...but...
So the snow has properly arrived. When I said it had arrived before, I was wrong. This stuff is lying and causing some havoc. It begun at about midi today and hasn’t stopped. Clermont is apparently free of snow though we are waiting to hear about the condition of their pitch. The rules are that if the game is cancelled for a second time then we get the points for the win. Without a shadow of a doubt, I’d rather go to Clermont and lose by 50 points.
So the snow has properly arrived. When I said it had arrived before, I was wrong. This stuff is lying and causing some havoc. It begun at about midi today and hasn’t stopped. Clermont is apparently free of snow though we are waiting to hear about the condition of their pitch. The rules are that if the game is cancelled for a second time then we get the points for the win. Without a shadow of a doubt, I’d rather go to Clermont and lose by 50 points.
I didn’t train yesterday as I had woken up like with a neck like a robot on Monday morning and felt training would not be ‘prudent’. So I had a long hot shower, worked my legs a bit and got my neck rubbed by the physio. Much the same happened today before I had to walk home as the ‘ligne 197’ was not running. They had earlier got into my good books by wishing me a good holiday on their in-bus screen but this evening, as my feet were soaking and I was scrambling around in slush, my thoughts were that they can stuff their good wishes.
On Wednesday I always have a little time to spare before heading to training and today I found myself in a different part of Paris, as I had to go to the bank. I could have picked up a sandwich somewhere like I normally do and munched it on the train but the blizzard was setting in and it was time for a hot chocolate. As I, a foreigner, sat alone in this stereotypical Parisian cafe eating a croque madame (the femininity coming from a fried egg on top), sipping my chocolat chaud, I looked down at my moleskine peeking out my bag and thought: ‘I’m such a cliche’.
Finally, I was wrong about Antony's Christmas lights. I saw the very centre of Antony and this place which I have been disparaging about actually scrubs up not too bad.
My latest French test is tomorrow morning so I have to be on time, for once. Planning to prove my prof wrong by pulling the 'gerondif' tense when she least expects it.
Next post to follow soon about getting high at the back of my train!
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