Monthly Archives: October 2017
How creepy is that? A shadowy dead-end street in a medieval French town. A 16th century doorway in the background. An iron worker’s flying witch with an empty drinks tray. Now, that’s scary 😱 Happy Halloween!
Miles of sandy beaches. Warm, sunny days much of the year. Citrus trees in your backyard. No snow. Sailing, swimming, diving and all sorts of water activities on your doorstep. Lots of theme parks and other pastimes for the whole family. These are just some of the many advantages of living in Florida. When you’re about to leave all of that behind to move overseas, however, some other positive points move to the forefront. For example, no state income taxes. A French consulate in Miami. A driver’s license exchange treaty between the state and France. With bright news like that, no wonder it’s called the Sunshine State. Read the rest of this entry
Well, most of that title is correct. There was a cat. We have a tile roof. The cat was on the tile roof. It was however, at 3:00 AM, so it probably wasn’t very hot and he wasn’t up there the whole time. How do we know that? There is a motion detector in our courtyard that turns on a light if it detects any thing/one. Since our bedroom is upstairs well out of sight of being overlooked by any neighbors we don’t have any window treatments. That means when the summer sun comes up at 6 o’clock there’s no sleeping late. It also means that when the pitch black is interrupted in the middle of the night with a very bright spot light, we are suddenly awake, even from a deep sleep. Read the rest of this entry
We’d been to Oxford several times before, but never with a guide. Friends Sue and Michael invited us to spend a couple of days with them seeing the sites that we had not already visited. Fresh from our time in Sheffield we happily donned our hiking boots instead of our Saddle Oxfords, and set out to see more of the town. Fish and water became the theme as we set off out of town along the river on a clear day that quickly turned rainy. To escape the weather we dashed in to the Perch pub for a fireside beer before continuing on along the canal to our ultimate goal, the Trout Inn. More beer and a delicious early dinner followed. Read the rest of this entry
Whether it’s kitchen, pocket, or hunting knives, scissors, razors, or even letter openers, if it’s sharp, it has probably been made in Sheffield, England since at least the 14th century. The local football team is nicknamed The Blades. There are restaurants that keep with that naming tradition including Cutlers, Silversmiths, Cross Scythes, and Steel Foundry. There’s even a Grindstone Pub. There are at least 2 dozen breweries in town such as Steel City, On the Edge, and Toolmakers. Thanks to our friends Gaynor and Pete, who were the reason we went to this north-central English city, we got to sample real ale all over town. Read the rest of this entry
On most days of the week it’s possible to take one train from the south of France all the way through to London, arriving in time to join the after-theater crowd for a late dinner. It starts in Marseille, so from Carcassonne you have to take one other train to catch the 3:15 PM Eurostar departure, and that’s exactly what we did last month. We are close enough to walk to the airport here from where we could fly directly to London, but we love the train. It’s relaxing, you can show up at the station a few minutes ahead rather than hours before departure, you depart from and arrive in the center of town, and leisurely drinks, snacks, and meals can be enjoyed with plenty of leg room while listening to music, reading a book, or just gazing out the window as the landscape glides by. Read the rest of this entry
I was going to save this blog post until later in the year, closer to Christmas, with an appropriate title, something like “Chestnuts roasting”. We were walking home along the Canal-du-Midi and noticed all of these nuts on the ground. Gravity had been our friend because the shells had broken open when they hit the sidewalk and spilled their prizes before us: chestnuts. We knew that’s what they were because they had that familiar deep glossy brown shine that we had seen roasting in huge flat pans at food festivals all over Europe in the fall. The French word for brown is marron, which is typically the same word they use for these treats. Eagerly we picked up as many as we could see, dropped them into our ever-present backpacks and took them home for cooking. Bill dutifully scored each nut individually to keep them from exploding when heated, spread them out on a cookie sheet, and placed them in the oven until the smell alone said that they were ready. Then he tasted one…. Read the rest of this entry