The dining room is redecorated, re-carpeted and re-furnished, so the front room and conservatory are back to their only moderately cluttered state. Martyn has sealed up the gap between the floor and the french widow (excuse the Hoffnungism), and we hope no longer to come down each morning to find slug trails on the carpet. The blue-grey walls and warm grey carpet look fine. Just a pity the curtains have shrunk (is the simple past 'shrank'?) in the wash. Still, they are of remarkably good quality, and owe me nothing apart from some water, detergent and electricity - oh, and elbow grease: they're a bugger to iron. They started life in a former employer's long-since quit offices in the 8th arondissement, and languished in a cellar in the Val d'Oise for a few years before being passed on to an expat who'd otherwise have had to buy from Gifi or some other down-market big shed. They have since clad our windows in Paris, Brussels, Zürich, Lagrasse and, of course Leafy Langton. So it shouldn't be too much of a struggle to drop the hems an inch or so. And a visit with the steam iron wouldn't hurt either. Oioioi.
Back to class today. Current project is 'A Fine Old Thing'. Ever ready to argue my way out of a corner, I'll put in a sketch of a mature pine tree set against sunrise colours on the Etang de Thau, looking towards Sète. (Photograph by Mr Engineer Cooper, who may remember the said curtains: v. supra.) I might work this up into a bigger canvas, having done the sketch on a piece of water colour paper 24x16cm. [I'd taped up the paper before I realised I hadn't brought my water colours.] And I might not, since it's rarely that quick impromptu sketches work up satisfactorily. I tend to find that a piece has to be just about right within 45 minutes if it is to have a future.
Looks like we're in for some proper winter weather. Ironic, then, that the Charlotte seed potatoes arrived today. The garage ought to remain frost free, so I'll allow myself to liberate a 30-cell egg box from the farm and set them to chitting. We had very good results last year from Charlottes grown in bags, so shall double the number this year. And I'm determined not to repeat the utter failure of last year's leeks, nor the mitigated success of the onions. Our Jonathan, enrepreneur extraordinary and capable decorator, has promised us a trailer of horse, so we hope for good things from the garden this year.
2 comments:
The disappearance of "shrank" as the simple past tense of "shrink" can possibly be attributed to a film entitled "Honey, I shrunk the kids." The solecism prevented me from seeing it. Being a pedant is so rewarding! John
Well, Colonial usages are pretty unreliable, eh?
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