A couple of weeks ago our doorbell rang and a very nice lady, after telling me that she too lived in our house many years ago (I am telling you it's a clan that lived here, not a family), invited us to a neighborhood fete that she organizes every year.
Since the location for it is the Union Cafe, our alley neighbor, we signed up. A good idea.
The weather continued it's sub par performance of the year and instead of a nice evening on the patio we were seated inside after some drinks outside.
Victoria came down with a cold, so it was Isabella and myself going to meet some people that we have seen around, but no idea who they are. Faces I remember, names not so much.
I shoved Isabella from group to group, making her shake hands with everybody, much to her dismay she told me. It was worse than her Opa's funeral in January she thinks, since there it was just handshakes, but here all the people wanted to talk to her. In french en plus. Oh la la. Quelle horreur.
We met some of the immediate neighbors who live in the town centre, we met some of the merchants we already knew by face and we met some people from North Carolina and Australia who also live here in Jarnac, some seasonally, some permanently. A great evening.
The set meal was a cold cuts and salad platter with a pile of french fries. And the owner of the Union Bar sang and played guitar. Surprisingly well actually.
We should do that more often.
NOT THE BEST SUMMER SO FAR
LOCALS AT THE BAR
DOGS ARE WELCOME
L'UNION BAR & RESTAURANT
JOSTLING FOR SEATS
THE MC FOR THE EVENING
HE SINGS! OWNER OF THE RESTAURANT