Even cowgirls get the blue rope
Are we there yet?
Not quite. As much as I love my unlocked Verizon iPhone – and I do – my French travel experience has been frustrating. My SFR SIM card worked OK for surfing but not for e-mail. Their retail staff at 3 different outlets were uniformly ignorant. Now that I have wi-fi, Apple jumps in and tells me I can’t get to the iTunes Store.
Another few years, and my new data implant will solve all this.
On the one hand, France is the kind of place where a small agricultural village can undertake a big espalier project with 100-year old plane trees… The result may not be to my taste but is unquestionably bold and interesting.
On the other, France is the kind of place where the local council can see fit to post a 5-step instruction for picking up dog shit using a plastic bag… The result is definitely agreeable but the method seems downright silly.
The old and the new in Agen
Priorities
I wandered around a cemetery yesterday morning. In addition to being above ground, the cemeteries here are different than ours in that each person receives some number of plaques. Family members, friends, even clubs that you belonged to, make you a little granite remembrance to place on the grave, like photos on the piano.
The gentleman pictured here (or his widow who enjoyed 15 good — better? — years after he passed), chose to put his pétanque club in pride of place, in front of nieces, nephews, and even his children.
Frankly, I get that. Good on you, mate.
Life is just a really big bowl of cherries that you pick when Prov happens to spot the trees by the side of the canal
You must remove your white tiger shoes before you enter my house, because they will clash with my mosaic tile work.
Brattleboro Adventure – the Auckland Edition 