Waitrose.

I'm not sure what this map says about Blighty, other than there are more Waitrose stores in the South than the North. Maybe the Scots and the Welsh simply prefer Tesco; I doubt if it has anything to do with affordability.

Just for the information of non-Brits, Waitrose and Tesco are popular supermarkets.

                                  

This map (above) shows the distribution of Walmart stores across the USA. As opposed to Waitrose's North South divide, Walmart has a West East divide.

I have no first-hand knowledge, but I believe that Walmart is at the cheaper end of the market, so one can presume that the right half of the US is where the 'bargain hunters' live. 

                                 

Such maps are informative, but probably say less about society than we are led to believe. The world now has TWO major stores that are believed to be cheaper than most others. Lidl and Aldi are both German owned, and attract people from all walks of life; the rich and the poor.

As you can see by the distribution of Aldi stores across the USA, they follow the same pattern as Walmart stores; occupying the right hand side more than the left.

I'll stick with Leclerc!

Ouch!

Way back in January of 2012, I had severe pain in the fleshy bit below my thumb on my left hand. Between my commentators and Dr Google, we decided that it was probably 'Carpal Tunnel Syndrome'; an unpleasant, but hardly life-threatening ailment. The pain subsided after about 3 weeks.

Two weeks ago, the same bloody thing returned; just when it was quite cold, and logs had to be sawn.

It's the starting of my Husqvarna that's the tricky bit. No push button starter button for them-there Swedes; just manual tugging at a rope (about 6 times to start it). I managed it, of course, but it did my problem hand no favours. Also my right arm/shoulder is still painful, so frankly it was all a bit of a sado-masochistic exercise. 

My hand is already less painful than two weeks ago, and I expect the worst will have gone before mid-month. 

I just hadn't expected it to return, and I found it all rather depressing. It's the little things that annoy when one starts to age. 

However, I've been extremely brave.

The Big Wedding?

The Harry/Meghan wedding is pencilled-in for Saturday 19th May in Windsor (I'm not sure what I'm doing that day).

If (like me) you will suddenly find that you have better things to do, you could always buy a souvenir.

Some are more tasteful than others. As usual, there are mugs, tea towels, and life-like dolls.

Personally I shall not be buying any souvenirs, but if I did, I'd go for this US example above. Maybe not too PC, but the resemblances are uncanny!

Anchovies.

Did I ever mention how much I adore Anchovies?

I love them on toast for breakfast, with simple pizzas in the summer, and on a pissaladiere at any time.

With 'George' our wood fired kitchen oven having been permanently on the go recently, we needed to take full advantage. Lady Magnon baked cakes, pies, and crumbles, and I did the long slow stews, roasts, and other savoury stuff. 

Pissaladiere is a favourite of mine, and it's making was timely. I still have a large box full of red onions from Haddock's, I had a pizza base waiting in the fridge (I never make my own), and my yearning for Anchovies was overwhelming.

Yes, I know it looks a bit messy, but it was really very good; it made an extremely pleasant simple lunch; cheap and easy peasant food at its best!

Life in MARCH.

March is so very different to February, it speaks of hope, where Feb' spelt despair.

Now we'll all begin to blossom again; our sap will rise, and the air we breathe will taste of honey.

The sun will have genuine warmth, those checkout girls will smile again, and there will be free sweets for all.

Bones will mend, chilblains disappear, and freckles darken.

Street conversations will change. No longer will we speak of wind and weather but of far distant islands and sandy beaches, of cold beer and BBQ's, and of picnics and pools.

Haddock's will soon overflow with Tomatoes, Peppers, and Aubergines. Flowers will surround our doorways. Logs will remain unsawn.

Croissants will always be made with butter, Chickens will all be free range and maize fed, and my weekly supply of bread will be hand delivered by the lovely Sandrine.

Trump will become couth, Fat Boy will apologise to the world, and Assad will roll up his sleeves and personally help to rebuild Syria.

In a US amnesty, all guns and ammo will be handed in to the cops.

Yes, I like March. life will now be perfect. Good times ahead.

MEANWHILE: I believe snow has fallen in many parts of Europe. Not here.

The best of times, the worst of times.

It was Summer, and it had been a sweltering hot day and evening. We had just eaten at the legendary 'Hotel des Voyageurs' (chez PoPaul) in Beaumont du Périgord (now closed). There was a fête in the village, so we stopped to dance a while. It was probably one of our best days for years.

We've all known times like this, whether they be in Tottenham, Torremolinos, or Trinidad. They become days we don't forget.

When I was younger, and still occasionally today, I tried to fix such moments firmly into my head, so that I could recall every detail at a later date. I imagined it would see me through times of illness or frustration. Of course it never did.

But what else do we have? The good times are there to counteract the bad times. On balance we can but hope that the former weighs heavier than the latter. For some, sadly, they don't.

Some might say 'if we didn't know the lows, we could never appreciate the highs'. I'm not sure about this, but no doubt it makes certain people happier with their lot.

We all meet people for whom the bad times seem endless (I imagine certain trolls feel thus), and it must be hard for them. Some live with constant pain, others with unrelenting mental issues. None of us are responsible for the woes of others, but we can at least sympathise.

The above photo hangs at the side of our fireplace, where it is on open view. It reminds me constantly of life's variety. A mélange of hot and cold, peace and war, laughter and tears, even living and dying. 

Grasp the nettle and enjoy the sting.

Och; me sporran's all of a tremble.

It may not surprise you, but certain Scottish 'specialities' are not readily available in France.

So, another of my Amazon follies is this 6 pack of tinned Haggis, which has just arrived (I still had one tin in store).

I know that the very name 'Haggis' brings a shiver to many a sassenach's taste buds, but let me assure you that this stuff is absolutely bloody delicious.

Imagine a slightly spiced, coarsely ground, peppery, Paté. Cut into 2 cm slices, and fried for about 6 mins, so that each side is very slightly crispy; this is heaven, and anyone who says otherwise is either crazy, or is lying about having tasted it.

                             

I have never understood why people can have such phobias about Haggis. I shall say no more.

TRY IT.