I was strolling through my beloved éco-parc last Sunday when I saw a group of youths clustered around the three imposing stones that stand guard and overlook the Parisian panorama.
And then, stone the crows (or magpies in my park), they started to clamber up the stones. Once on top, one of the group took some photos and then they slithered down from the stones and left the park.
It happened so suddenly that I didn’t get a chance to take a snap. Ah, you exclaim, so how come you’re displaying these photos here? Because about 10 minutes later as I was sitting on a bench gazing out across Paris another group of youths turned up and climbed up the stones, had their photos taken and then swiftly exited.
IT’S A WRAP: The guy on the right took a few photos of the stone climbers and then they all left the park.
What was going on? Was it some sort of daredevil game? Was it a sort of ice bucket challenge type thing? The Stone Statue Stunt?
Whatever, my park never fails to surprise me.
Jack Bruce, the legendary singer, songwriter and bassist with Cream, died on Saturday 25th October 2014. He was 71.
My 16-year-old daughter Princess Perfect boarded the Eurostar train at Gare du Nord today heading for London and a long weekend with my sister Auntie Phyllida.
I, of course, fretted over whether she had her tickets, passport, money etc while she casually took it all in her stride. At Gare du Nord I watched her go through the ticket barrier and passport control until I lost sight of her.
I then trudged home nervously. And waited to hear how the trip went.
A statue of Sir John Betjeman stands proudly in St Pancras station. Betjers was the godfather of my youngest brother, Princess Perfect’s uncle. I wonder if she saw the statue today?
Within about three hours emails and texts abounded between me, my sister, my wife and PP. She had arrived safely, was met by Auntie Phyllida and together they went off in search of an Oyster card.
So you know as much as I do for now. Updates later.
From these boxes came forth this . . .
I went shopping this morning in Vincennes with my daughter to buy various things and, once that was mission accomplished, then she suggested a Chinese takeaway for lunch. She knew just the place.
So we popped into the tiny Chez Kim shop and came out with a veritable feast costing 15 euros.
We chose spicy poulet basilic, pork spare ribs, riz cantonnais, noodles, a samosa, a nem and various sauces.
. . . this dish, times two.
We took the bus back home laden with gifts and books and food.
And within a few minutes of arrival, thanks to the marvel that is the microwave, we were tucking into delicious hot Chinese fare.
We were both well stuffed and happy.
A solitary magpie makes a welcome return to my éco-parc. He (or she) was soon followed by others of his (or her) ilk.
Last year I blogged about how my beloved éco-parc was teeming with gorgeous magpies. They seemed to own the place and I enjoyed their company.
Then a few months ago I noticed that there were no magpies in my park. Not one. I know bugger all about birds but I believe magpies are not migratory. They tend to stick in the same place.
Perhaps my magpies go on holiday? St. Tropez or somewhere nice? Whatever, I missed their presence.
And then a couple of days ago a couple of magpies reappeared. This morning I went for a walk and there were three or four swooping around from tree to tree.
Welcome back mes amis!