clocks in the museum

 A deadly day,  spent editing pictures, sorting things, even spent some time vacuum cleaning the carpet.

Organising washing, trying to think straight. 

In the evening, the son nearly missed his train, that would have been another car journey to Bayreuth. As things are, he caught his train, complete with the bicycle. It is a shame to see the bicycle go, it was quite a good one. There will be another bicycle, after the three month healing period for the operation is over. And the son needs a bicycle to be able to travel around the place in Bayreuth.

The evening in the pub was awful, groups of men talking loudly about things of no importance at all. It is good to leave the place.

Tuesday morning, at long last, go to France. To Besançon, to admire the clocks in the museum.