Welcome to the attic of my mind. Mind the stairs, click the light on and have a rummage around my thoughts on writing, the art of everything second-hand, the natural world, music . . . just about everything. Probably not much about sport.
Monday, 24 December 2012
C'est quoi 'Humbug'
Oh yes, Limoux was full of festive spirit down at Leclerc this morning. I'm sure the year before last when I went down there on Christmas eve it was almost empty, everyone having shopped themselves stupid days before. Today it was MAD - parking area overflowing into all surrounding office car parks and bits of available scrub land. A lot of honking, fist waving and general non-goodwill to men very evident. I think as the sacred hour of twelve approached there might have been some exciting fights erupting between frustrated drivers.
The inside of the shop was like Oxford street without the lights and police with megaphones. More than a touch of trolly rage Oh, excusé moi, MADAME! mobiles clamped to heads, 'what! how is there no more mousse au canard avec fines herbs, c'est pas possible ça! Check again Henri!!
At least Slade's 'Merry Christmas' wasn't playing. I'm not actually sure what the equivalent is . . . Petit Papa Noel? - which is several degrees more vile.
Ezra spotted something worthy of the Golden Brussel Sprout award for the most useless gift - a metal statue of Big Ben to grace your Christmas table, a snip at twenty-three euros . . . he looked at it for a moment and then asked me what it was for. I was unable to answer him.
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