Handwritten

The Daily Post writing prompt for 11th September was Handwritten:  When was the last time you wrote something by hand? I write by hand many times a day, and indeed was handwriting something for another blog post only moments before I began typing these words.  But writing for this blog is something I do infrequently,… Continue reading


Weekly photo challenge: Connected

Here’s a direction sign from World War II Libya.  The photo taken in about 1941 is in my father’s war album, and is marked as “Signpost Libyan Desert”.  The camps are named after Australia’s state capitals, and might have helped the Australian forces to feel (slightly) connected with home, several months’ sail away. All the… Continue reading


Chopin's Raindrop

Today in Valldemossa, Mallorca, I heard two Chopin piano concerts, each lasting ten minutes.  They were included with the ticket to the Real Cartuja Municipal Museum which exhibits Frédéric Chopin and George Sand memorabilia in a few cells of the old monastery.  Though one of Chopin’s pianos is present in another cell, the Celda de… Continue reading


George, Frédéric and Valldemossa

Morning, Valldemossa.  Defeated by the insomnia of jet lag, I rise and open the curtains to a full moon shining on me.  It’s four o’clock.  Sheep down below the valley wall shuffle through grass, chewing and bleating.  No other sound; no other presence; it’s the other extreme of Valldemossa.  Twelve hours ago the streets crawled… Continue reading


Spiridion

Four years ago I began translating one of George Sand’s novels:  Spiridion.  She was, some say, the first French feminist.  I wrote a post about her here, not because she was a feminist but because she did what people said she couldn’t do:  George Sand was a female who earned her living from writing, which,… Continue reading


Weekly photo challenge: Signs

When the Australian government, among others, announced this week they’re sending troops off to Iraq to fight (if only in the skies for now), I thought Here we go again.  As I rode past this bin today, the sign “General Waste” reminded me of the futility of war.  It might seem an obscure connection, but… Continue reading


George Sand. Heard of her?

She was a great-great granddaughter of the King of Poland, Augustus II the Strong.  Her father was the king’s great-grandson, Maurice Dupin. Her mother, Sophie Delaborde, the daughter of a bird fancier, was, said George, of the ‘vagabond race of Bohemians’. She was a girl with a foot in two worlds, born Amantine-Aurore-Lucile Dupin in… Continue reading


Voice Work

On Thursday, the WordPress writing prompt was “Voice Work”:  who would you like to do a voice recording of your blog? It got me thinking about audio books, a book pleasure I enjoy from time to time.  The delight of this kind of ‘reading’ is in the hearing.  The voice of the reader combined with… Continue reading


Orange

From Éloge de l’oranger by Jean de la Fontaine (1621-1695) Orangers, arbres que j’adore, Que vos parfums me semblent doux ! Est-il dans l’empire de Flore Rien d’agréable comme vous ? My translation, wherein I change the plural orangers to a single orange tree, for the sake of rhyme: Orange tree, my desire, How thy… Continue reading


One trip EVERY month: January

Marianne at East of Málaga says we take trips at least once a month.  Some of us go to countries at the other end of the world and towns on the other side of the continent.  But we all leave our dwelling places now and then and, intentionally or not, end up in a park… Continue reading