Here's one... apologies for the language.
Learning French.
I automatically picked up the adult learning course brochure today. What would possibly be the point of learning French when you’ll almost certainly be dead in 2 years?
But I want to learn French.
However, also today, I cycled past a silvered, dead tree with crows perched on it in perfect Hitchcock fashion.
I smelt warm, damp green, the joy of wild honeysuckle, sweetness of cows and an unidentifiable pleasing tarry chemical.
I exchanged cheery ‘good mornings’ with everyone.
I passed pools of oily orange water, squirrels with monkey hands, a study in grey, of pigeons on the edge of a galvanized trough, flowering stinging nettles like pagodas, a rat the size of a beaver.
I heard the plop of a frog.
I pulled over to avoid squashing a dog and admired the clip of the westie and discussed its differing from Samson as regards energy and hair with the South African owner.
I stopped and chatted to Sarah-Jane and we laughed at the foolishness of life.
Fuck the French.
more where this came from..
