I evidentally have holes in my brain. Lots of them. The French tester politely explained that I knew words that were advanced, but fundamental parts of the French language were missing. God knows what I had been replying to his questions, but sometimes he looked confused and at other times plain shocked. My neighbours back… Continue reading Gruyere French
With Brexit, President Macron and Trump all making the news so often, my other half was inspired to go political for a change. Our French Euro having a spat with the English pound and Trump, well probably thinking about his next Tweet. Find many more characters at Chaps, Sods and Fellowettes.
Our tiny little commune is known as La Nourrice, meaning wet-nurse. It is a strange name and I have yet to delve into its history, but in essence a wet-nurse breast feeds another woman’s baby. It was common practice in days gone by, but I am not so sure today, well not in this neck… Continue reading La Nourrice affinage
This post. It is a little long, but the thoughts had to come out. I have been away for a month. Summer heat stroke and a visit to the hospital, along with some physically hard work pointing up the barns exterior walls had impinged on my health and being slightly presupposed to depressive moments, I… Continue reading Change and hope – past and present
An abbreviated article appears in this seasons The Good Life Magazine. On a cold, crisp April morning, with numb fingers, two seemingly mad English, with an almost feverish determination, searched for buttons; muscling locals aside to pounce on another matching set, or to accumulate a whole euro bag worth of those lovely cute orange ones.… Continue reading Paris – Material Girl
Pygmalian fell in love with a sculpture and Aphrodite granted his wish of companionship and made this sculpture human. The famous Eliza Doolittle, of GB Shaws famous play, changed too, from Cockney street girl to refined Fair Lady. Changes manifest in many ways and forgive me for this strangulation of mythology to fit my prose,… Continue reading Pygmalion
A while ago, longer than I dare to remember, I worked in a cheese factory. It was a yearlong contract to unfortunately close down a large specialized cheese importer – HT Webbs and transfer the most profitable cheese to the Danish dairy company Arla Foods. The job was fascinating mainly from the point that to… Continue reading Cheese please
