Homme D’Étain Dix-Huit

France here we come.

Tomorrow the Family of Tin flies (from Waterford) to the home of cheese, vin and half the Arsenal team, with SIL of Tin, her hubby and two kids, and the MIL, to stay in 3 cottages together in the absolute middle of nowhere near Bordeaux for 2 weeks.

We’ll either have a brilliant time, or kill each other.

The kids will definitely have a great time, especially my youngest & SIL’s 2 girls, since I’ve never seen any collection of cousins get on as well, except in Deliverance type movies. Tinson2, who only comes home from the Gaeltacht today, has always get on great with them all as well, and should still fit in with their fun, though his time in Connemara may have caused him to outgrow them slightly. I’m almost hoping so, so that he might be better company for Tinson1, who may well struggle for the two weeks. His girlfriend’s family went on holiday last week (to France as well), and the timing of the two events means that he’s not going to see her for a total of three weeks. They’ve already spent a fortune on calls and texts.

So, beaucoup de vin, un peut de bierre, and lots of healthy outdoor pursuits such as walking, swimming and cycling. I’ve just left work for the last time till August 5th, and feel very odd. Circumstances last year, such as a penchant (getting into l’esprit already) for sudden blackouts, meant that I took no holidays at all, so I was almost laughably giddy at work today, and to be honest, did sweet bugger-all. I know that I will be up to my eyes when I get back, being that the first week of each month is my busiest time anyway, but I’m hoping I’ll be refreshed enough to be able to take it in my stride. I also know that this will not happen, and that by about 11 o’clock on the first morning I’ll be swearing  I’ll-never-go-on-holiday-again-it’s-just-not-worth-the-shit-when-you-get-back, but, hell, that’s weeks away.

So, hopefully it will be fun. We’ll have a few laughs, have a lot of drinks, and talk in ‘Allo ‘Allo accents for two weeks (we’re painfully shallow). I haven’t dared look up the weather for Bordeaux and have schooled myself to accept that it will be like here, so I can only be pleasantly surprised, unless it snows.

Au Revoir.

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