It was a workday:

In fact, we hardly left the apartment yesterday before evening. Mark hadn’t had any pastries at all yet, so he went for an almond-filled and a coffee in the morning, and then fired up the old laptop and got to work.
Leo had had a poor night of sleep, so after some consultation we sent him back to his hammock with an extra blanket against the beautifully frigid air conditioner and turned out the lights.
I worked closely with Simon for a few hours, completing a day’s worth of history reading, English mechanics practice, and science workbook. Then I went for a little walk outside to see if I could find out why they were shutting down the street and putting up a long row of tented booths, each with two folding chairs and a table on it.
First I discovered what they do with your motorcycle when you park it where it says No Parking Today.

Then I went into the tourist office nearby, sniffed a couple of candles scented with the region’s special agricultural product (lemons), picked up a city tourist map, and asked “Qu’est-ce que se passe dehors avec toutes les tentes?”
The answer is that it was a municipal activity fair, and all the local sports clubs and dance schools would have brochures and a place to sign up, and there would be performances and the like. Sensible, on the first Saturday of the school year, So, nothing for us, but it might be interesting to see.
I returned and with Mark ate a lunch of leftovers. We woke Leo and made him eat something. Then school again: I read aloud to both boys then set Simon on math while I worked with Leo on geometric constructions and French review.
About five pm I took the boys to find a cheeseburger and fries, then took them back; and they stayed in the apartment while Mark and I ventured out.
+ + +
There had been a little burst of anxiety from the direction of the children at the French-fry stand: one spilled his drink on the other, the other got upset. I worried they’d need to text us for intervention while we were out. Accordingly it took me a long time of strolling through the town looking for a bar to sit at, and then changing our minds and looking for a restaurant, before I could quite release myself from feeling high-strung. Mark soothed me, pointing out that the worst that would happen would be that I would sit at a seaside bar with a drink while he would jog two minutes back to the apartment to solve any problems. Perspective restored, I accepted this outcome and chose a restaurant. And I immediately ordered a spritz Hugo for medicinal purposes.
I don’t do a lot of needing a stiff drink and the Hugo isn’t exactly stiff but after downing it I did feel I could breathe more deeply. And order food.

Mark had a cut of beef with roast potatoes. It looked pretty good but I concentrated on my mussels. I think it was good that it gave me something to occupy my hands. They are the unshelled pistachios of the sea.
Et j’aurai besoin d’une verre de vin blanc avec cela. The waiter offered me Sauvignon Blanc or Côte de Provence and I picked the latter.
Okay, I’m calming down. The sea, the sky, the food, the wine.
I thought I would want to do more, take the train to Nice, visit a lemon orchard, see an art exhibit. All I want to do is lie around, walk around, eat, shop, cook. Get gelato. Do it all again.