Yes, I’m sure that I’m getting worse. It must have been quite an exertion for me yesterday as by the time I returned home I was in no condition to sleep and I remember at one stage looking at the clock and it was way past 04:00.
But sleep I must have done as I didn’t hear the alarms and woke bolt upright at 09:05 and it was just as well as I had to be in Marcillat for 09:30 to record the rock programmes.
And I made it too but the crew wasn’t there. In a delightful summing-up of rural France, the excuse given (when they did turn up) was “well, there was a queue in the boulangerie“.
I went to Cécile’s on the way to Liz’s afterwards and sure enough, there was the form she was expecting, finally arrived, but collecting the letter isn’t going to be anything like straightforward.
We did the Radio Arverne programmes at Gerzat, but towards the end I was dissolved in fits of coughing (and poor Bernard who has to edit it all out) and I don’t know how I made it to the end.
But that’s about finished me off now and I won’t be doing anything else. Liz gave me some honey and a lemon and I made a hot drink, but it was rather like the time that I sent Nerina to the Health Spa for a weekend.
When my mate came round, he asked me if the mudpack had improved Nerina’s appearance any.
“It sure did” I replied “but it wore off after three days”.
