Guess I’ll have to invent a new game

In Current reading, Drafts, Food, Games, Hautvoir, Local projects, Music on March 18, 2014 at 7:45 am

Only one of the kids following through on an assignment over the holidays? I would have been impressed. But two?

Allez. Pushing on.

The English conversation hour with the dancer consisted of a walk-around part of the neighborhood. When he saw us peering at the mouldering pile of bricks and iron, one of the municipal workers stopped his vehicle and asked if we were interested in buying. The huge old tannery’s been on sale for years now. I learned the price was down to fifteen thousand euro from the initial two hundred thou. Even at fifteen, I doubt there’ll be a buyer. What do you do with thousands of square meters of space contaminated by heavy metals, even if the river view is outstanding?

First round of the municipal election: this Sunday. I now have all the candidates’ literature on my table. Diagnosis: the level of political discourse isn’t on the rise. I prefer the banter at the market place. Between the Gitano and the rotisserie guy, for instance. The first claiming his right to a free cooked chicken, seeing as he supplies the stolen goods for same. “When the roasted ones can fly,” comes the reply.

Meanwhile, in my head, Harry Belafonte sings there’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza, a hole, and Odetta answers well, fix it dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry, fix it dear Henry, dear Henry, fix it.

I read a chapter out of Edith Wharton’s The Age of Innocence, then I switch to a chapter out of George Eliot’s Middlemarch. Both women such remarkable writers, I feel like I’m in church, lighting candles in front of the Saints. This sends me off to sleep, which is a good thing, considering.

Then I wake up, and wonder what I should do with the hand of Jokers somebody dealt me while I slept.



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