The Quiet American promises home-made trout paté (with a deliciously softened t and a nicely accented e-acute) when we come tomorrow evening, and I promise the tarte tatin we didn't have the other night when dinner was cancelled owing to bad news. We feel cheered and a little defiant, but not inappropriately.
(Now there's a mish-mash, tarte tatin italicised, 'paté' not, at what point can Anglicisation be said to have taken place, I wonder?)
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I have cut the grass, which makes everything in the garden look better, and puts a layer of cuttings over the apple waste on the compost heap that was drawing the wasps.
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Photo: Sun through sumac.
6 comments:
sorry there's been bad news
I echo Fire Bird and offer empathy.
Lovely photo of light painting the leaves with color.
Cheers, both. Nothing unexpected, or really tragic, but sad all the same. I don't like to be cryptic, I'll maybe write a bit more later.
When it becomes paté and not pâté, perhaps? :)
Smoked trout paté (pâté) ? yum...
EB - arse. Hoisted by my own petard. I shall leave the error there to shame myself with. Thanks for stopping.
The Sun is partial with what it will sometimes choose to catch and highlight. And most times it gets its choice right, like these leaves in your picture.
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