Yesterday my laptop went on the absolute fritz. It still is, which is why I am writing yesterday’s entry a day late, and probably will not be able to post it or today’s. Let’s hope that is not the case. By now you know better than I do at this present moment, hopefully we aren’t too far apart in time…
Well, yesterday was pretty good.
I was going to go to the market at Gardanne again, but something in me just wasn’t feeling it. So I went for a jog instead.
Why a jog and not a run? Well, my shins have been getting the worst shin splints every time I run, so I tried something different. It took longer for my legs to hurt, and they didn’t hurt as bad in comparison, so I think that is a good thing.
|House of/on St. Andre|
I looked into shin splints on the internet to see how I can help my legs get over it. Turns out they are caused by over striding (this might be one of the reasons, but I doubt it, I don’t tend to take too large of steps in front), running up and down hills (yup, that is definitely one), no longer having good cushioning in your shoes (seeing as shoes wear out after approx. your 500th km, mine are definitely toast) and resuming a physical activity regimen after an extended break (probably not). I somehow need to strengthen my legs with out running. Maybe it is time to find that bike that Marie-Anne talked about awhile ago…
|i think they made a spelling|
mistake.. but it most
likely has something to
do with trees...
I can’t really remember what exactly I did for the rest of the afternoon once I returned.
I know I made a stellar omelette sandwich. However, Dijon mustard is in no way a replacement for HP Sauce. I really missed my HP Sauce…Almost makes me wish I was a ketchup girl… It’s a more universal sauce.
|also no idea.. Google translate is |
Also, I know I didn’t go to the grocery store yesterday, but here is a comment on them: they do not refrigerate their eggs. At first I was absolutely horrified and I asked Marie-Anne (this was a couple months ago, no worries) if they had over stock or something. Turns out eggs do not actually need to be refrigerated. It’s just the 1 in 12 000 000 (I think I’m pretty close on the ratio) chance that your egg has salmonella in it. If it does, having your egg in a cool environment will help reduce the amount of bacteria growth. But for people with healthy immune systems, like myself, you can probably keep your eggs on the counter in a basket like the good old days (there had to be a time before refrigerators right?).
|also no idea..|
I did go for a walk in the later afternoon, as I do every Sunday. Just the usual route to Narnia and back. I noticed this a while ago, but only yesterday did I actually take photographic evidence of all of the different signs people have for their homes. This is not in town, this is “in the country” or “in the forest”. The homes have all kinds of metal bars twisted into words, metal plaques, ceramic tiles, you name it, people have it made up to mark their residence. You would think that just having a house number in the country would be good enough. Nope, ya gotta have a name.
When I got back nobody was home, which I expected, Marie-Anne mentioned something about going to a movie or something, I don’t know. So I took this time to watch When Harry Met Sally, again. It so good!
BUT I was interrupted not even half way through by the phone ringing. It was Evelin, she had sushi, and needed help eating it. I was out the door faster than when I went for a jog. It’s amazing what sushi can do for your shins.
Her family left on vacation and also left her a bunch of sushi (they got the same flyer as we did, advertising really does work!). Saturday she had the pleasure of me recounting my stupendous wasabi tale. What a great way for a first hang out to go eh? Anyway, she remembered that I love sushi, and well, the raw fish thing doesn’t really go over well with her, so, who else to call? Nobody, just call me. Please.
So we had tea and sushi, then we started watching Hairspray. Did I mention she lives no more than two minutes away? Convenient eh? Very convenient indeed. As they were marching down the street, one of the final scenes, I happened to glance at my watch and I noticed it was after 9pm. Then it clicked that Marie-Anne and Pierre drive to Marseille on Sunday nights, leaving Lou alone with me.
I was out that door almost as fast as when I left for it an hour or so ago. I got back just in the knick of time. Only to find my computer absolutely not cooperating and scaring me a lot. So I wrote in my journal for over an hour, read some other parts of it and laughed at myself. Then went to bed.
Not a bad way to end a weekend at all.