Man, what a day! Seriously, I can’t even. So, I wake up in my tiny flat on Rue de la République, right? The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill.
First off, I head to the workshop. You know, the place where I make barrels and stuff. I’m a cooper, not a magician, but I like to think I work some magic with wood. Anyway, I’m all set to start my day when I realize I forgot my tools. Classic me, right? So, I sprint back home, dodging tourists on Rue de la Liberté. Like, come on, people! It’s a sidewalk, not a catwalk!
Finally, I get my tools and head back. But then, BAM! I trip over a loose cobblestone. I’m sprawled out like a starfish, and this old lady walks by. She just looks at me and says, “You okay, young man?” I’m like, “Yeah, just practicing my yoga.” Ugh, so embarrassing!
After that, I finally get to work. I’m hammering away, and it’s going great. I’m in the zone, you know? Then, outta nowhere, my buddy Pierre shows up. He’s all excited, waving his arms like a madman. Turns out, he found this old wine barrel in the back of a shop on Rue des Écoles. I mean, who even leaves a barrel just lying around? So, we decide to restore it.
We’re working on it, and I’m feeling all proud. But then, I accidentally spill some varnish on my favorite shirt. It’s ruined! I’m fuming. Like, why does this always happen to me? I swear, the universe has it out for me.
But then, something amazing happens. While we’re working, this little kid walks by. He’s got this huge smile, and he says, “Mister, you make barrels? That’s so cool!” And just like that, my mood shifts. I mean, how can you stay mad when a kid thinks you’re cool? So, I give him a little demo, and he’s just in awe.
Later, we take a break and grab a bite at this little café on Rue de la Mer. The croissants there? To die for! I’m munching away, and Pierre starts telling me about this festival coming up. Apparently, they’re gonna have music, food, and all sorts of stuff. I’m like, “Count me in!”
But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, it’s like someone turned on a faucet. We dash back to the workshop, soaked to the bone. I’m laughing so hard, I can barely breathe. “This is the best day ever!” I shout. Pierre just rolls his eyes.
As the day winds down, I’m packing up my tools. I look around at the workshop, the smell of wood and varnish filling the air. I think about how lucky I am to live in Saint-Joseph. The streets, the people, the vibe—it’s all so unique.
I head home, exhausted but happy. I can’t wait for the festival. I mean, who knows what tomorrow will bring? Life’s a wild ride, especially in this little corner of France. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.