
Here in the garden of Michelle and Marie I take my mourning coffee and munch on fresh strawberries. Michelle is a superb gardener and his flowers bloom profusely everywhere. I could spend many days here without ever leaving the garden.

I am reading the book
Sixty Million Frenchman Can't BeWrong.
The authours, Canadian of course
talk about the seeming contradiction
in the French,
a contradiction
that is apparent only
to North Americans
who impose their expections
upon the French.
Ce n'est pas une probléme avec les française.
The architecture along the road from
my apartment to Scy Chazelle,
is so different from North America

and yet I have discovered one thing

in common with my neighbourhood
back home; an hysterical society is present here as well.
Their hysterical
society also controls the paint colours of your house. No pink houses here.
3 comments:
Hey there, I love the pictures! It looks lovely and quiet. School is out in two more days. No plans yet for the coming months. Send more pics! PS kitten still alive. E
Yikes, I'm having difficulty spelling in English now, as in mourning coffee Jude
I thought "mourning" was one of your Canadian tics, like "colour" or "zed." Hee hee. Glad to know all is tres bien en France!
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