Groggy. Cotton-brained. Off-kilter. Bleary-eyed. Only more time will set things straight. It's all systems normal, actually. Je souffre du décalage horaire. Jet lag has me by the throat. And it's not unexpected.
And here's what they're saying on the TV news about the whole situation here after the terrorist attacks last Friday night: La France est en guerre, et la guerre est en France. France is in a war, and the war is in France. But you'd never know it in Saint-Aignan if you didn't watch TV or listen to the radio.
The weather is not helping my jet lag. It was gray most of the day yesterday. And today Météo France is predicting even grayer skies with a chilly rain. The dark days are upon us. Lag needs sun to heal it, but I can't count on that.
As you can see, skies over the hamlet were pretty yesterday morning. Sort of impressionistic, if I can use that term. It's not cold out, but by Saturday it's supposed to be much colder. It really is time to bring the last of the cold-sensitive potted plants indoors.
Callie is still enjoying her promenades, and I am too. I'll go out, maybe in the rain, this afternoon. I bought myself a new rain jacket in North Carolina. I had foreseen the need. I've already worn it once — day before yesterday. It's broken in and good to go.