Skiting

We have taken to very gentlemanly hours and have just finished breakfast (scrambled egg, smoked salmon, "English" muffins for the men). We are a freelance family, but should I feel bad about this? I have seen to my correspondence, had my splendid coffee and read the papers online but feel vaguely exposed in my dressing gown at 10:30 a.m..

Really it is all about the luxury of choice I suppose. Yesterday I went for an early morning walk along Beach Road to the end of the point, then to the start of Richardson Bay, breathing in the blossom before the storm we are promised tomorrow reduces that wonderful clean fluff to mush. Gardening at 8 a.m. is a luxury too.

Norma emailed me about the public voice of this blog which is true, it is a open forum, so no confidences or breach of confidences. I have read quite a few other blogs and find the most tiresome tone is righteous indignation, and the most diverting is candid on-going small stuff like a family letter, with allowance made for happy pride in good things, even outright boasting.

I thought of this following a string about children misbehaving in public places, because I was always so proud of my children, enthusiastically eating Tripes a la Mode de Caen and Plateau de Fruits de Mer and sitting happily and quietly at table. In Cogolin another diner, Ray Still, assumed we were French because, he said, the children were so well behaved. Hmmm.