Monday, August 02, 2010

figures, trampoline, daube


Posted by Picasa Figures in a landscape. Calverley Ground. (Click for whole photograph).

In a garden a mother and father set up a trampoline from a flat pack. Their little girl looks on. Later, I see the mother in a black singlet and jeans and little in girl a pink frock, jump up and down, up and down. Birthday, birthday, birthday, " sings the mother. And the little girl screams with excitement like a wild bird, as she jumps up and down, up and down. The trampoline has a high, circular wall made of netting. It is like a cylindrical cage.

 "When we arrived in my grandmother's dark kitchen in Sunday after Vespers, it was lit by a ray of sunshine in which the flies were dancing and there was a sound like a little bubbling spring. It was a daube which since midday has been murmuring gently on the stove, giving out sweet smells which brought tears to my eyes." Pierre Huginin, Les Meilleurs Recettes de Ma Mere, quoted by Elizabeth David in French Provincial Cookery. 

1 comment:

Barrett Bonden said...

Here's a sentence from a book I have just started to read. Would you like to guess the author?

"He liked his new acquaintance, who struck him as in a manner clinging to him, who was staying at a hotel presumably at that hour dismal, and who, confessing with easy humility to a connexion positively timid with a club at which one couldn't have a vistor, accepted, under pressure, his invitation."

Like travelling on a very slow Big Dipper.