I’ve just a few more postcards for you from our trip to Bretagne.
They’re about as orderly as this.
Random clouds of sand kicked up with no order.
There was our usual trip to Dinard, just us.
Ice-cream before the photos = not very wise.
And the usual getaway.
The pursuit and the hostage negotiations.
Another getaway, followed by an aborted effort.
Sure Bretagne was often cold and rainy and grey,
but Sir’s family of five brothers never fails to come up with a plan.
Let’s have an Olympics!
Somebody loves that idea.
You’s goin’ down!
Everyone join in! Even the big ones!
(I wish I could show all the participants, but I forgot to ask permission).
Our team lost.
I should know not to side against these two.
And we ended with the usual bang.
Fireworks for Bastille Day on July 14th. Greatly anticipated by some …
… met with trepidation by others.
Sure Bretagne was cold and rainy and grey. But then …
This, and about half of the other pictures were taken by my father-in-law.
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