General Chat

Rollo I enjoyed reading that as JoyL says keep it, it is evocative.

OMAM - thanks, Sharon.

Reminder to self: tie a piece of string around your finger ..... except I'd probably forget what it's there for. :-D

Tell about the rabbits ,Lenny.

Keep it Rollo. It's a nice piece of work.

The book I was thinking it came from is entitled ??? It's the one where the guy returns to his family home for a funeral and, in so doing, meets others in a local pub.

For the life of me, I can't remember its title - could be a Steinbeck, maybe one mentioned below?

I got rid of a lot of books a while ago but kept Cannery Row and Of Mice and Men, both enjoyable enough to read again. Loaned them out and they were never returned - same thing happened with Scott Fitzgerald.

I also kept Scoop by Evelyn Waugh, another enjoyable read.

People, don't get rid of your books - I've regretted doing so.

Rollo, your piece about women in light summer dresses reminded me of an occasion (more than fifty years ago) when I was driving through Liverpool with a young uncle. It was summertime and his eyes could not keep up with the pace of the young ladies in their summer dresses - his favourite time of year for that alone, he told me. :-D

I wrote the piece about twenty years ago.

It was an observation from a window the first summer we lived in Normandie.
I had thought it lost but it turned up while checking through old hard drives heading for the crusher.

Dermott would love our villlage. We live opposite the ancient church which is well attended. Even better the village cafe is just nearby. The swallows no longer sit on the telegraph wires in late summer. The wires have been removed along with the power lines so as to improve the street scenery. Instead they sit on the lips of the ancient guttering of our house and others

The village school was threatened with "rationalisation" from Paris but the community fought back so well that extra classrooms were added. Such stories as "Cannery Row", "Grapes of Wrath" and "Of Mice and Men" are popular in French schools albeit in translation. They mainly figure in lessons about American social history rather than its culture.

fwiw its worth if I have any literary influences they are American but more Elizabeth Frost, e e commings, J D Salinger. Philip K Dick and Ray Bradbury rather than anybody as elevated as J.S.

I just wish I could share that afternoon, the heat, the noise of the rain on the tin roof of the bar, the kids yelling with joy while their mothers in light summer dresses caught out by the torrent swore, la vache, the yickity yack of the birds.

<3 la France profonde

Meanwhile, 'The Song of Hiawatha' by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow has long been my favourite.

Luckily, I have it on audio tape too where the elegantly-spoken storyteller gives it much needed clarity of word pronunciation.

Powerful stuff!

I thought Google is where it would have been found or you tube ;-)

Just a thought. Rollo, you've quoted Emerson before, on more than one occasion .....

Mention of a hill, water and children rings a bell here but my mind's gone blank.

ROLLO.

LaGooner, late last night when Rollo had not enlightened us, I googled the first dozen or so words. Got nothing so I googled th few words from 'High above the swallows.' Zilch!

Come on Rollo, play the game.

Still Steinbeck to me.

Yes, It appears he's not going to tell you - he either wants you to think he wrote it, or he's trying to be 'enigmatic' :-D :-D :-D :-D

.....Or just plain condescending!! :-D :-D :-D

'Most' people reference something they find nice!

Google it Joy ;-) :-D :-D

Steinbeck's my guess.

Just testing :-D :-D :-D

Rollo will give us the answer shortly :-D

Ann, I said wrote that ... not rode that. :-D

John Wayne :-D :-D :-D :-D

Which American wrote that?

A spider sky woven from strands of wispy silk gave small warning of misty rain in the wind. Large drops started to fall kicking up tiny spouts from the dusty road. Soon the dust devils joined together into a small stream which started to flow down the hill across the ancient pavé, rolling small pebbles, fallen flowers and some surprised insects along with it, surfing on the leaves.

The stream picked up on the first yellow leaves of the fall and swept them onto the tires of a car making a dam against itself. Impatiently the stream kicked small waves against the dam until it broke and was swept under the car the stream emerging triumphant from the far side.

Feeling its new strength it rolled down the hill back onto its intended course, catching homecoming children from the vilage school unawares, delightedly splashing in the cool water.

High above the swallows looked down from the telegraph wires chattering, their thoughts only of a southbound wind.