last night - and todays news

Richard and Eva being back from their wanderings, we arranged to meet at l'Authentique. Suspecting it may not be open - erratic hours, plus Armistace Day - I prepared a back-up, a fougasse baked with chorizo by Victor in the Rue Victor Hugo. Lots of mustard and a bottle of red; nice.

The Authentique was closed and the dog stole the fougasse.

Mercifully TyRex was open and welcoming and we had a decent meal there (though their prices have escalated.)

Todays' news, gleaned from several points in the market; Nightingale has had her baby, prematurely but well. Hurrah!! She's called Ailhe, pronounced like halloween without the H or the N. All the best to Night - congratulations and much joy :)

Only other news is that Richard Sedgewick is facilitating a course on forging. That's blacksmithery, BTW, not doing other peoples paintings. Details to follow.

Armistice day

A miserable grey day, as befits the date - in the eleventh hour of the eleventh day in the eleventh month we shall remember them. One of the reasons I can't bear to go to the towns' ceremony is that it makes me cry. The war monument is large and  crowded with local names. You have to lack imagination to remain unmoved.

Took a coffee in the Cafe du Pont instead, where a couple of the old boys did a few chords from La Marseillaises.

The other reason I get upset is because of my familiarity of the poem In Parenthesis by the great painter/writer David Jones. Tempted to write out a chunk but that's not the job of the blog. Can't resist this little line though - after his fellow-warriors have been killed and  Jones' himself lies wounded, he abandons his rifle, understood through his training to have been his wife and family ;

                       But leave it - under the oak.

                       Leave it for a Cook's tourist to the Devastated Areas and crawl

                       as far as you can and wait for the bearers.

He was always prescient! Tourism of the Devastated Areas is big business now.

Wet day in November...

 Its wet, Bobs away, there are wasps hatching in the studio; nothing to do but play with the parrots.

Puerto

Tango

Rico

back in the flow

 Got back last night - BTW, discovering something worse than Stanstead airport: to whit, Manchester. Don't go there.

Here's Fleche, the dog of the Relais Occitan, who lives mostly on the biscuits they give you with coffee.
He has got fatter since I've been gone.

Then there was breakfast with Ole-Bendik whom I was relying on for the gossip. He tells me that the weekends' drawing fest was marred by Lotto, held in the hall of the centre cultural underneath the large and light filled room used by artists for drawing from the life. Lotto is like bingo only louder, harder fought on account of the prizes are sides of ham and so forth - food dear to the hearts of the French. A big part of French rural culture.
So probably not a fine opportunity for Aileen to try and wrestle the microphone from the caller...
insults were hurled and repercussions linger.

Thence to lunch: Maggie Hailer with her eldest (whose name I can't spell) did me and Bob the honour of joining us. Maggie and her husband Adrian lived at Ramunichoux for many years until Adrians' illness overtook him, alas. We hope that it might be possible for him to visit us in the summer - he is much loved.

The source of my other news is Isobelle at the 8 a 8. She tells sad tales. The Abbe Bigot, Catholic priest to the town since the expulsion from Eden, has died. Not unexpected given his age (he was 87), though sad another link with the past is lost.

On the same day Francis Marty died. He had been wrestling lung cancer for a while - looking successful too, until quite recently. Condolences to Helene and their children. Hard to bear such a loss and at such a young age - he was 57. All who know Helene will send their love.

That's the last time I go away!

Tuesday night socialising

 Dropped in on Andy, Lou and James and so did Kevin and Tita with Sana; the kids went off playing and we sat about, catching up. Lovely :)

 Whence to l'Authentique, where Antonia and Steve were also eating - to meet with Gracie and Lucy whose photo was unpublishable. Alas. Smashing evening.

It was my goodbye night - I'm off being busy elsewhere for a fortnight. Back before you know it.
If you are in Esperaza or nearby, don't forget the vernissage tonight in Quillan - and see www.latenteasons.jimdo.com for the weekends' Festival itinerant de passage a Esperaza.

Hang it

R. Myth and Aileen Hennes

Ole-Bendik Madso

Hanging of the Arthe group show yesterday; that's the group of practitioners who meet on Monday mornings to share the cost of a life model at the Centre Cultural. 

The exhibition is in Quillan at the tourist centre - the place with the onion dome opposite the station - and the vernissage is on Weds between 5 - 7.00. Bring a bottle and a friend :) Show runs for 2 weeks.

Eva Lyons

Richard Lyons and Katrina Head

Morning light

I didn't forget to take photos last night, I phorgot to charge the battery for the camera.  Lala. 

So the sight of Bob feeding me, Kat and Roland in front of three suspicious parrots will have to be imagined.

These pictures I took this morning as the sun was getting up,  while getting the breakfast croissants.