This morning, Hippy Love Français called and said we were going on a hike. All of us. Kids and husbands, everyone. Foggy morning be damned. Today was La Cantonade and we were going.
And since I'm particularly fond of finding ways to kick cancer's butt, a hike with Hubster and the tribe sounded just about right.
And it was.
The best part was when Hubster manged to get a lift back to our village and stock up for a picnic. Our buddies from our village had done the same and were happily sharing out bottles of rosé and rouge with all and sundry from our neighbouring villages near and far when Hubster, bless his English socks, showed up with a 12 pack.
Take that cancer.