A diverse offering twixt the interesting, the unusual, and the amusing.
Monday, 13 October 2014
When I first moved south of La Manche (43 years ago) I did wonder if I would slowly, but subconsciously, adopt the hint of a local accent; as do so many who move to the USA, Canada, or Australia. I am pleased to say that this has not happened, nor have I grown to look too much like the chap above (although some might say otherwise).
Aged 25 my schoolboy French allowed me to insist that my Aunt's pen could be found on my Uncle's desk; but not much else. Had I wanted to employ someone to empty my septic tank, all would have been explained by gesticulation. I eventually learned to speak French by necessity; food needed to be bought, building work done, and the children educated. Never did my Aunt's pen or Uncle's desk contribute to any of that.
I now speak pretty fluent French, and there is no subject about which I cannot converse.
But a strange thing has happened; I now THINK in French. When I'm musing over some problem, or situation, in my head, it is with the help of French that the solutions are found. I don't remember when this started, but I have noticed it more and more over the past 5 to10 years.
I wonder if I'll ever start throwing my arms around in disgust when England thrash France's XV at the Stade de France......Non! Jamais, jamais, jamais.
We went with friends to the Scallop festival in Whitianga; a charming
seaside town in the Coromandal District.
Had a great time...5000 people, lots of wine...
3 years ago
The difference between an optimist and a pessimist, is that the optimist enjoys himself whilst waiting for the inevitable! I AM that optimist!
This is a daily, optimistic, 'photos and comments' blog. I make no judgements (only occasionally), just notes. If you wish to comment in any way at all, please feel free. Everything and everyone is very welcome.
I was born just south of London, but for the past 44 years I've lived in S W France. I am a painter by profession, and writer by desire. Lady Magnon and I live in an ancient cottage, in a tiny village, in perfectly tranquil countryside. We have a vegetable garden called 'Haddock's' (this may crop up from time to time), a Border Collie cross called Bok, a cat called Freddie, plenty of fruit trees, and a view that takes the breath away. I try to treat our planet with respect, and encourage others to do likewise (without preaching).
Contentment is a glass of red, a plate of charcuterie, and a slice of good country bread. Perfect!