books 'n roses

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The peintre relaxes very occasionally, so the local gossip goes, in his potager. That is when he is not painting, feeding himself and three cats, emptying a garage and a gallery, building a ramp and preparing eight hundred packages for the book delivery on its belated (through no fault of his own) delivery date, checking data, preparing labels, printing, addressing, sticking, signing and probably humming. All on his lonesome.


I went home for three days. The books were supposed to be there. We were supposed to be labelling, sticking, licking, posting, printing, packing. A deux. Instead, as they were not, I smelled the roses, and planted the broccoli family. I prepared elderflower champagne for four day fermentation. We walked, ran, lunched....It felt like three weeks' holiday.


Back in grey rainy Garsington my beloved shows me his ramp and packaging on skype. I make admiring noises. The elderflower champagne is over-fermenting.

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