Category Archives: May 2014

Part 2 – The Fastest talking chef in the sud ouest

IMG_0616See part one first…. Pottering around in our new home, assessing jobs to do we lost track of time but suddenly thought we had best go round to the village restaurant to make our dinner reservation. We reasoned that it probably wasn’t necessary but we hadn’t got any real cooking implements so we wanted to secure our supper and we hoped, find that the place was a little gem. Continue reading Part 2 – The Fastest talking chef in the sud ouest

Zippin’ up my boots, goin’ back to my roots…

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Yeah!

Franco Manca

I love Brixton, my family have come from there for generations and it’s a great place (always has been, in spite of popular belief) so we opted for the Brixton Market Row branch of this small chain for our Thursday supper. The market place is lively and a bit of a foodie heaven allowing us to make mental notes of future venues for our Thursday suppers. Continue reading Zippin’ up my boots, goin’ back to my roots…

The church bell tolls thrice, a breeze catches the long meadow grass in a whisper…

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I look to the deck chair where my friend snoozes…no sign of life. The gentle hum of a distant tractor and Mata Hari struggles upright, blinking, we stare at each other in the bright sunlight, no need for words, we know what comes next. Continue reading The church bell tolls thrice, a breeze catches the long meadow grass in a whisper…

Rainy days and Mondays…don’t always get me down

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Rain seems to turn a bank holiday into a ‘normal’ Monday without the usual warm and fuzzy feeling…it often becomes a day for doing chores, clearing out cupboards, getting rid of old paperwork…the dreaded bank account, washing, ironing, you get the picture. Occasionally it’s for pyjamas, freshly laundered with thick socks, the addition of a comfy sofa, a cuppa and a film (or in my case a box set of something I’ve seen 100 times like The West Wing or The Soprano’s). Continue reading Rainy days and Mondays…don’t always get me down

London has voted

I like to exercise my democratic right – I’m not saying that doesn’t occasionally blow up in my face though.

I’ve always felt conscious, prickly even about the late stage in history that provided the female vote in this country, less than 100 years of female emancipation in the UK. Just one good long lifetime ago, I’d have been denied that right. Those brave women did me a huge service and I will never forget it nor will I ever fail to exercise the right they gifted me. Equality may be a way off yet but at least I don’t have to throw myself in front of horse – someone did that for me and I am deeply grateful. Continue reading London has voted

The fastest talking chef in le Sud Ouest…

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Part One

The eve of the Rugby world cup final in 2003, Rocket and I have flown into Toulouse on the late evening flight, we are embarking on an emotional journey that is to last for over ten years and which continues to this day….

We have collected the keys to our French home, our first real home together and we are as nervous as a pair of kittens. Continue reading The fastest talking chef in le Sud Ouest…