Tuesday, November 03, 2009

No larger than the nail on my little finger, miniature works of amber shellac, hanging on the dry brown stems of the summer's foxgloves.  Is there anybody in there?


The same day Qarrtsiluni said they'd still take my photos in and around the chapel, if I didn't mind making a new commentary, and if my admirably loyal readers didn't mind being directed to yet more on the same subject, an elderly local historian, who I'd completely forgotten I'd contacted, having sent an e-mail off into the ether of his general direction some days ago, mailed me back with an enormous attachment, reams and reams of French in tiny Marigold font, with everything ever known on the history, archaeology and toponymy of Tredaniel and its environs.  I thought I wouldn't be able to read it without getting some form of mad-eye, but before I knew it I was totally absorbed.  Thus passed much of my afternoon.  Though having finished my assignment on the effective teaching of English vocabulary, I felt I could live dangerously and indulge my passions.  I curled in my cool blue room, and wrote about cool bright air.


Then bad news from an old friend and fellow blogger, which leaves me troubled for her.


The rain it raineth every day now, and my Toussaint holiday is nearly over.  I've done some of the things I intended to.  Molly lazes her days away and gets up too early in the mornings.  Tomorrow the weather forecast says will be better, so we'll head off to Dinan, a holiday outing we'd been promising ourselves.  With curry.


annie said...

a holiday away and curry both sound fantastic. I think I'll indulge in at least one of them this week.

marja-leena said...

Love the snail, like a jewel! Do keep indulging your passions, Lucy - I love reading about them!

Zhoen said...

Dogs are for getting up early.

Rouchswalwe said...

Tiny snail snuggling 'gainst the sun's warmth.

Lee said...

I knock on their front doors sometimes but they never answer. Perhaps I shouldn't use a brick.

Roderick Robinson said...

A nice little parable to be turned on those who say that they are literary people who hate technological mediation, who insist that worthwhile info comes only from books, that computers are in some way vulgar, etc, etc. Never heard of Marigold typeface; seems as if my professional existence has been totally in vain.

Lucy said...

Thanks chaps.

Annie - very sadly, we got to Dinan to find the Indian restaurant had closed down! We had something else instead, about which perhaps more later.

Thanks, ML, for indulging me!

Z - they do, I have no need of an alarm clock. She gets restless when she doesn't get enough walks though.

RW - awww!

Lee - oh you could squash this one between finger and thumb. But one this small cannot be harmful, I'll leave it for the thrushes.

BB - it was in fact a large tract from his book, I believe, but he obviously has it at his fingertips!  I do like it that one can often get in touch with complete strangers quite easily in these webby times.  Internet presence has it's ups as well as downs.  I hadn't heard of Marigold either, the font box told me that was what it was.  It doesn't seem to be available on the usual word processing programmes, but you can see a sample of it here; it's a pretty italic calligraphic little thing.  Browsing the world of on-line downloadable fonts, as you have led me to do, opens up a whole realm of interesting possibilities.  Though they are often quite expensive... Even fancier than Marigold is Marigold Wild, which you can download for free here.

Did ML really imply you were stingy with compliments on the pictorial?  I expect she was just teasing you.  I have never found you stingy with compliments at all, one just has to unravel them a bit sometimes...

Roderick Robinson said...

Wow, I wouldn't have cared to read more than 500 words of that, though it is elegant beyond words. Good for a tombstone.

M-L said my compliments were "rare". I apologised for my unwitting curmudgeonliness (a word I'd had waiting in the wings for just such an opportunity) and she softened the blow in her reply. I'm sorry my praise taxes your decoding strengths but at least you can be reasonably sure (say 93% anyway) that the outcome will not be painful. Here's something unequivocal: I envy you those winter drives into deserted, wild and wasteful Brittany. I look forward to photos of the world's cruellest coastline.

Dick said...

The noble snail, beautifully caught. There's a favourite Irish proverb that states that 'time and patience would bring the snail to Jerusalem.'

I love the Marigold font. I've just added it to my vastly inflated Mac font stock. Thanks for the lead.

Ronnica said...

I love the front-on picture of the boat. (I'm sure there's an appropriate nautical term, but I don't know it!)

Sheila said...

This photo is meravigliosa!