The blog of a romance novelist and poet. Semi-nomadic between England and France, a curious curtsey to cuisine and country.
Tuesday, 16 August 2011
A mere trefle
I wonder how many songs we encounter in a lifetime. Some just pass on through but others stick for ever - often to a point of ad nauseam. Some songs just sit there like unexploded time bombs waiting for some trigger years and years ahead. Such a thing happened to me today. The Angel of all Beasts passed by and came over for La Bise (four times remember). She rummaged in her sac and pulled a four leaf clover which she had found. She handed it to me with a sense of great delight. She then showed me one that she had mounted on a card and carried in her purse. Well, today is a bit of an anxious day because Gilles is on a long drive and we have kids wound up like crossbows waiting for various exam results. But now an angel has given me a four leaf clover and I know that all will be well. I just know. Anyway - the unexpected gift plunged me back to the tune "I'm looking over a four leaf clover" performed by Les Perry and his Banjo Maniacs. It was on an old 78 rpm record that my mother had collected from somewhere. I used to play it on my record player when I was a kid. It also had "Bye Bye Blackbird" on the same disc. I never told any of my contemporaries that I played these songs because I guess it was music from the forties or fifties. In any event, this music made me feel immensely cheerful and happy and now the bloody song - banjos and all, keeps playing in my head. The only good thing is that it has driven out "Are we human or are we dancer?" performed by the Baseballs.
A trip to La Dechetterie had me queueing behind some English folk. Their car registration gave them away of course but I would have known they were not French merely on the basis of the things they were discarding. When French folk throw away junk - it is junk. When English folk throw away junk it is what the French call Brocante. All manner of old metal rods, bits that looked like they would make a plough, trap a ragondin, reinforce some concrete or fix up a combine harvester were crashing into the bin. If Gilles goes to the tip it's 50/50 he'll bring home more than he takes.
A while ago the church bells stopped. They have now been repaired and I have been able to take off my watch. Francophiles will already know that in general church bells sound twice at the hour with a 2 minute gap. Explanations are numerous, but it's probably so that workers get the chance to check twice on the time.It would never do to miss lunch.
Emma thinx: Someone will need that junk. It may be a long wait for their birth.
Labels:
Emma Calin,
France,
Music,
Seasons
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Thanks so much for stopping by. Always so happy to get your feedback. Emma x