It is fast becoming a habit, the migration of Percival Parents to warmer climes as the Dordogne winter hovers. I say ‘hovers’ deliberately, for this year the Indian summer lasted practically till the end of October. We left before it did. The grapes...
and not a single one… …fit to eat All in field...
It was frequently said of my beloved grandmother that she did not know how to boil an egg. Apparently this is the height of culinary incompetence. But over a glass of gin each, neat Dutch gin, she confided to me that she had, once, known how to boil an egg. But...
Proper autumn weather always arrives sooner than expected. All of a sudden one is closing curtains in the early evening, peaking around them at seven in the morning only to find that it is still dark outside. The day closes faster and opens more slowly. Our usual...
A curious end to the summer, marked by small, unripe fruits and a noticeable absence of wasps and hornets. Bees in the pool, yes, but few hornets in the vines and fewer wasps. Now that the warm weather seems to have settled in without interruption of rain or... 
