Wednesday, 21 March 2018

Abandoned Kit.

Just some of the abandoned farm machinery that we passed on our afternoon walk yesterday.

Tuesday, 20 March 2018

Bok and Marley.

Bok's mate Marley often turns-up in the early mornings for our first walk of the day. He's a bit boisterous for Bok, but he's slowly calming. He's a really lovely boy, and is desperate to learn (I'm teaching him 'commands' in English).

He and his stable mate wonder around, visiting everyone in turn; saying hello to all his canine and human pals.

If our late Monty's limited wanderings are anything to go by, Marley's owners must have received a mountain of nasty Emails by now. He's very much a free spirit, and is permanently in a neighbour's garden (where Monty strayed 3 times). In Monty's case it resulted in an unpleasant rebuke; so one can only presume that it's the same for Marley's owners. His 'inbox' must be overflowing!

We abided by the request. Marley's owner obviously didn't.

Monday, 19 March 2018

Chagall. 1887-1985

                          Image result for Chagall man at table

I'm quite a fan of Chagall's work, but I'd not seen this one before. Now I'm an even bigger fan.

This painting entitled 'Man at Table' was painted in 1911. I can find no explanation about the imagery. It's quite unlike his later more dream-like works.

There is a beautiful looseness and naivety about his work which often illustrate 'folk tales' from his native Russia. Even when he moved to Paris in 1910, he continued to paint of the influences from his early life back in Belarus.

Essentially he was a 'Jewish Painter', whose work one critic described as 'Hebrew jazz in paint'.

It's that Cat that makes it; don't you think?

Sunday, 18 March 2018

Some pleasant Sunday music.

Nice version of this old classic, with just a hint of Chet Atkins.

Saturday, 17 March 2018

Taj Brighton.

                               R├ęsultat de recherche d'images pour "taj brighton"

Most British towns have a store similar to the one above. With so many diverse nationalities all over the UK, Asian/Middle Eastern foods are now sold everywhere.

Taj in Brighton is a real favourite of mine; it is also perfectly positioned opposite Waitrose, so, when there, I do all my shopping in one spot.


This shop is a dream. It's big, and they sell everything you could possibly imagine, from the rarest spices, to unheard-of fruits and veg'. Just walking around the shop is like being on holiday.

The smell is wonderful, and continuous Arabic music completes the exotic picture.

Here in France we have three main groups of immigrants, those from North Africa, The Caribbean, and Vietnam. Most supermarkets cater for much of their basic needs, and street markets sell the rest. There are very few comprehensive stores that sell 'exotic foods'; at least, I only know of one, and that is miles away.

If I was granted one wish, it would be to import Brighton's Taj, and re-plant it near to my usual Leclerc supermarket.

Honestly; I promise I would never moan again!

Friday, 16 March 2018

I blame his parents!


My people had a friend who was at our Consulate in Dieppe (N France), and he knew of a family in the town who were looking for an 'exchange student' for their son Didier. He thought we might be interested.

The family in question were described as genteel and pleasant. The father was an architect, and they lived in one of his own designed houses overlooking the town and sea. They also claimed to have some 'gallows' in the garden; which later turned-out to be swings. They sounded quite suitable.

So, aged about 10, off I went to stay with Didier's family. I think I was to stay for two weeks; in which time I was no doubt expected to learn to speak perfect French.

After the first week we set off on a trip. We headed West along the Normandy coast, then South to the Loire valley, then East towards Paris, then back again North to Dieppe. It was a trip that lasted about four days, and was a wonderful experience.

At one stage we visited a restaurant where nets-full of wriggling tiny silver fish were pulled out of a small stream (which ran through the middle of the outdoor sitting area). These were floured, then instantly deep fried. Big platefuls of these tiny fried fish regularly arrived at each table with wedges of Lemon. I'd never seen anything like it before, and found the whole experience fascinating (and delicious).

Didier's family were totally charming, and after my two week stay, he came to stay with us in Surrey.

Above is Didier, me, and our cat Tiddles (all our black cats were called Blackie, and all the tabbies were called Tiddles), at our Surrey home. I've always wondered what happened to Didier. I've looked for him on the net, in the phone book, etc, but no sign of him anywhere. I would liked to have thanked him for the important part his parents played in forming my love of France.

p.s. Those jeans I'm wearing were the best ever. They were very faded, very baggy, and very comfortable. I loved them. They don't make them like that any more!

Thursday, 15 March 2018

The Bee's Knees.

After my Tuesday's posting, I'm pleased to announce that Lady Magnon is now on Opium.

Her doc' seemed to think that everything was 'roughly' OK, and has prescribed painkillers.

When I can get her down from the ceiling, I shall also try to make her rest-up for a few days.

Yup, it's the 'Ides of March', and I'm expecting Mr de Quincey to arrive at any moment.  

Opium indeed!

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