Runner beans are sometimes known as scarlet runners. This is why. Let the flowers speak for themselves.
Faced with yet another, grey, wet day, I take a loaf of bread, baked last night, out of the bin and make myself a tartine, to cheer myself up. At least that's what I think for a moment it might be. But after a while, I begin to have my doubts. Yes, it is a slice of bread and butter, which is a crude definition of tartine; but what bread, what butter? and in what terroir is it consumed? Suppose, I say to myself, a French person, who had never lived in England, were to announce that he had made himself some toast and marmalade, I am not sure that I would take him entirely seriously! Anymore than if he had boasted of making himself a cup of tea, or some toasted cheese, or Welsh rabbit (or rarebit)! I have never lived in France for more than a few days at a time, so I must defer to people who have (Lucy who does and Barrett Bonden, who did for example) for a true cultural definintion of a tartine.
The way people say good bye on the phone is always instructive. A man in shorts passes me in the Grove. He is talking into a mobile and almost sings his goodbye: "Good by ay ah!" he says, seeming to add under his breath, as he pops his phone into his pocket: "Got that out of the way, thank God!"