What I remember most about this match was having to go tee-tee real bad, like really, really bad. We had gotten to Marseille early to tailgate and had a couple of beers outside the stadium. Right before kick-off, I nipped into the ladies to use the facilities, opened the stall door and saw a hole in the floor where a toilet should have been...nuh-uh. So I held it during the almost two hours of the match, I held it during the thirty minutes it took to get to Aix-en-Provence, and then I sprinted in what I'm sure was Olympic record time to the restaurant. Sweet Georgia Brown! It was a close one.
Today's edition of Behind The Photos feature a hodge podge mix of pictures from the Autumn of 2010... snapshots of random bits of life in The LPV. And because it's darn near impossible to think of Le Petit Village without thinking of every one's favorite honey farmer, I feel it's only right to kick off this edition with Honey Jr.
There he is, as you would find him at any barbecue, manning the grill. This would have been one of the last barbecues of the year and only a few months after we moved into our connecting homes. That summer was so busy with weddings to attend and out of town guests to entertain, that we hadn't gotten around to knocking down that little fence that separated our back gardens, and building the matching decking that would come later. It really felt like we lived in a house together, or in Melrose Place or something, minus the scandalous intrigue.
Gregory, myself, Child Bride (before she was a bride), and Brother-in-Law at the boys' uncle's house outside Saint-Rémy-de-Provence. Uncle JM always had (correction; 'has' **sniffle**) the best parties every year... lots of good food, loads of people, sometimes a band, and everyone leaves with a jug of olive oil made from his grove. Man I'm going to miss those parties (and that delectable olive oil).
This photo was taken at Stade Vélodrome in Marseille. Whenever Clermont and Toulon play against each other and the match is a home one for Toulon, they opt to play in Marseille or Nice instead of their real home, Stade Mayol (it's rather annoying). What I find funny about this pic, is that it was taken back before Mr. London signed for Toulon and back when Gregory would have laughed at the thought of ever cheering them on. Oh what one does for brotherly love!
What I remember most about this match was having to go tee-tee real bad, like really, really bad. We had gotten to Marseille early to tailgate and had a couple of beers outside the stadium. Right before kick-off, I nipped into the ladies to use the facilities, opened the stall door and saw a hole in the floor where a toilet should have been...nuh-uh. So I held it during the almost two hours of the match, I held it during the thirty minutes it took to get to Aix-en-Provence, and then I sprinted in what I'm sure was Olympic record time to the restaurant. Sweet Georgia Brown! It was a close one.
Do you see that pretty blond there? No, not Gregory, the other one. Well that's a friend of mine from back in Texas. Not only did she graduate from the same small high school that I did, but she went to prom with my brother, and then ended up living in Marseille! Sometimes it's a teeny-tiny world that we live in. Anyway, this was taken on a night that we got together for dinner in Aix, that turned into late night drinks. Hence the glassy eyes #goodtimes.
As interesting and entertaining as life in Le Petit Village would be at times, at others, it was rather boring and we had no choice than to dress up Fifty for our own amusement. Je suis désolé Fifty.
What I remember most about this match was having to go tee-tee real bad, like really, really bad. We had gotten to Marseille early to tailgate and had a couple of beers outside the stadium. Right before kick-off, I nipped into the ladies to use the facilities, opened the stall door and saw a hole in the floor where a toilet should have been...nuh-uh. So I held it during the almost two hours of the match, I held it during the thirty minutes it took to get to Aix-en-Provence, and then I sprinted in what I'm sure was Olympic record time to the restaurant. Sweet Georgia Brown! It was a close one.