Wednesday, September 8, 2010

About wind

september 8th, 2010

Well the courageous Reporter, dear Boys and Girls, made it last night to the heart of the country where the Decrepit House is.
And it has to be said that Dear Friend was very courageous in fetching his Frog to this dark, lost in the middle of nowhere brand new airport of Brive la Gailliarde.

It's an airport not unreminiscent of the South West China airports that spring all marble clothed in the middle of nowhere. This one is marble clad and aluminium and green glass, it looks awesome and it has a heavy traffic of three airplanes per day coming from Paris.

It has a sumptuous flight tower, real high and you look at it thinking of these controllers up there who have to deal with three planes a day and sometimes there are delays and the night flight comes really late [ like the Reporter's ] and the whole airport is plunged in darkness except for a tiny light above one of the carrousels, and one tiny light you can see up there in the control tower.

We were about a dozen in the turboprop, and it felt a bit like flying with Saint Exupery frankly except there was no Sahara desert around.

Anyway, the Reporter plunged into country life. She went the next day to Sarlat,










and ambled around,












while it was market day










then, she drove back home, where the grass had been burnt by the scorching August,










and then she checked on further demolition, which in fact is the LAST facade of the Decrepit House to be scraped from the ugly grey stucco in place since 1830.
So now we can see the beautiful stones,










And if you look closely at the ugly lower part, still grey and unscrapped, from the pic above,

this is what it will look like in the end:










Just pure beauty if you ask me. In the meantime, she cut mercilessly all the dead hydrangea and clipped the piracantha which is a nasty thorny bush which should really be called piranha. It's an equivalent of the red burning bush and believe me it really burns you when you prick your finger.
So here what it looked like after the Reporter with her Attila the Hun clippers passed by,










She also re-painted an old painting, and when Dear Old Friend had hung a huge mirror with an ugly wood painted frame the color of urine, and asked her if she wanted to clean up the mirror [ she offered to do so as she had an ulterior motive ] so, as soon as he had disappeared into the library to his computer, she rushed back to the kitchen from the entrance hall which was conveniently next door. There, where she was painting the back ground of her canvas a sort of pale blue grey lilac, she dived for the windex [ to clean up the mirror ] and her brush of pale blue grey lilac [ to paint the urine frame ] and lo and behold, in less than 45 minutes she had repainted the urine frame hoping that Dear Old Friend from his library, which door was opened, wouldn't hear the muffled sound of her black boots to the Hall,from the kitchen, where she was collecting more paint.

And there she made it just in time !!!

He came out of the library, complimented on the glistening mirror and did not even see that his frame had changed colors !!!!!

She was a little miffed that one of grander master piece was not even recognized.

With love from the country and with tons of blue grey lilac paint,
the Frog



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