Charlie comes home

We drive to the Nice airport in our little Citroen bought several years ago for 1500 euro. The side view mirror on the right is broken, so it makes getting off the highway very exciting. Spend 2 hours at cargo pick-up, and find that DELTA IS THE MOST INCOMPETENT AND PROCESS ORIENTED AIRLINE when it comes to animals. The cargo folks at Nice airport can attest to this. The man who has a brand new sting ray tatoo which my husband asks to see, says so, so it must be so. So, Charlie comes home and immediately performs a head count of his sheep and takes up the guarding position (back to us, and looking out for wolves). All is well now. How a 76 lbs lump of fur can capture one's heart is beyond me, but he does. The sun comes out, so we take our first dip in the pool and jacuzzi, both which have been rescued from wilderness and restored to its desired state over the course of the past 4 days. The frog who reigned the pool is sulking somewhere else while we venture in.

Today, we clean a few rugs and shampoo Charlie for good measure. My husband, who spent the afternoon at a hedge fund conference in Monte Carlo, reports that all the money is flowing to Asia now.

Dinner is Bouchee a la Reine (roughly translated as a mouthful for a queen) - it's a pastry stuffed with seafood and white cream, and zucchini pasta with garlic and leftover sauce from the pintade. National crisis has hit us as we realize THERE IS NO BREAD for the cheese.

Namaste!