La Fête Nationale

It is a truth universally acknowledged that one must wear, eat and drink French on Bastille Day but I'm feeling horrid about the insanely expensive bottle of French wine I bought yesterday, all on its lonesome so I can't even rationalise by calculating the savings I would have made by buying six or twelve or whatever.  It's preying on my mind so much I may have crack it open and drink it to make the problem go away, even though it's just gone eleven o'clock.  Can't have a cloud on this perfect day which began with croissants and cafe au lait, daphne on my breakfast tray and wonderfully torturous cards from the kids - Oli was excluded from school in Year 10 and it really shows in his (lack of) syntax.  Happy Bastille Day world!