Monthly Archives: August 2011

I really must go

The ordinary guinea hen looks like a partridge.  It has a shrill and quarrelsome cry, and makes itself so difficult in the farm-yard that people who raise them finally give up, despite the excellence of their flesh and their abundant … Continue reading

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wrapping up

It is nearly time to go back to London for a while.  Many delights await – seeing friends and family, marvelling at Mr Spacey’s Richard III and generally reprising the delights of the metropolis, and yet, and yet …  It … Continue reading

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and we got to get ourselves back to the garden

What wondrous life is this I lead! Ripe apples drop about my head; The luscious clusters of the vine Upon my mouth do crush their wine; The nectarene, and curious peach, Into my hands themselves do reach; Stumbling on melons, … Continue reading

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fish are jumping

July was not a good month here. Torrential rain, mistral and general gloom. In the 700 years of combined experience of the elderly ladies who gather every afternoon under the trees in the square (but not in the rain) we … Continue reading

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a solitary walk with crickets and butterflies over the col de roustans

The Cricket It is the hour when, weary of wandering, the black insect returns from his outing and carefully restores order to his estate. First he rakes his narrow sandy paths. Then he makes sawdust, which he scatters outside the … Continue reading

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