Sunday, April 22, 2018

PON speak.


We are all up early. Sophie first wakes us with a woof-woof and a squeak. Five minutes later this is followed by a woof-woof and a ' I need to get outside Now !' squeak. We have finally learnt PON speak.


Bob gives his sister her morning kiss then it's off to buy breakfast pineapples ...


..... and some purple asparagus for lunch.


We look at the rhubarb, note it's grown in Germany and debate whether this is the weather for rhubarb crumble. We decide it isn't.


After that we drive back to the house where the male PON takes up his front door position as guardian of the flock. His sister goes to the kitchen and hopes 'The Font' will suffer a protracted muscular spasm when transferring the chicken from the oven to the counter.


We noticed this in Laguna Beach when we went to a restaurant where everyone, literally, seemed to be shouting at each other : https://www.vox.com/2018/4/18/17168504/restaurants-noise-levels-loud-decibels


French television broadcast the funeral of Barbara Bush. Some slightly altered words of Shakespeare read by her daughter a dignified and 'old school' touch : 


“When she shall die,
Take her and cut her out in little stars,
And she will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.”







7 comments:

WFT Nobby said...

Bob guarding the wisteria topped front entrance. A lovely image for a Sunday morning.
Bertie is wishing Sophie best of luck with the chicken.

Taste of France said...

I don't quite buy the acoustics argument, because old-time French restaurants certainly never invested in acoustics engineering and are quite quiet.

Coppa's girl said...

Spain is, apparently, the second noisiest country in the world after the Japanese. All the local cafés here are gearing up for the holiday season and the noise levels of music and conversation are also gearing up alarmingly. Spaniards never speak quietly - they shout.
Sophie needs to form a cunning plan to make sure that 'The Font' drops each delectable eatable when it's taken from the oven and before it reaches the counter.......

Yamini MacLean said...

Hari OM
...surely rhubarb crumble is an all-season joy; it's the choice of custard or ice cream which determines which!

I rarely eat out. The worst thing imaginable is having piped music - even Bach can be a bane if one is trying to have good conversation and a tasty dish. YAM xx

Sheila said...

Ah, finally the wisteria. I think we all look forward to it's coming into flower each year. It must have enjoyed all the rain.
Barbara Bush's funeral service was just perfect I thought.

Poppy Q said...

Ohh look at your perfect door. What a perfect spot to sit and take in the beautiful spring day.

Pineapple for breakfast sounds lovely.

Pamela Terry and Edward said...

A very moving funeral.