STRIKE TOMORROW

UNE PETITE POESIE

Le chat et l'oiseau

Un village écoute désolé
Le chant d'un oiseau blessé
C'est le seul oiseau du village
Et c'est le seul chat du village
Qui l'a à moitié dévoré
Et l'oiseau cesse de chanter
Le chat cesse de ronronner
Et de se lécher le museau
Et le village fait à l'oiseau
De merveilleuses funérailles
Et le chat qui est invité
Marche derrière le petit cercueil de paille
Où l'oiseau mort est allongé
Porté par une petite fille
Qui n'arrête pas de pleurer
Si j'avais su que cela te fasse tant de peine
Lui dit le chat
Je l'aurais mangé tout entier
Et puis je t'aurais raconté
Que je l'avais vu s'envoler
S'envoler jusqu'au bout du monde
Là-bas où c'est tellement loin
Que jamais on n'en revient
Tu aurais eu moins du chagrin
Simplement de la tristesse et des regrets
Il ne faut jamais faire les choses à moitié.

Jacques PREVERT

ALL OR NOTHING
I know, it has gone from blog mania (those who were following closely will know what I am on about) to radio silence... Big brother seems to be just around the corner and I might have to move to another patch. Makes no sense to you? It does to me though.
Check below though as I have added new pictures!!

BRITS AND ITALIANS - A FATAL MIX?
It could have been if Ian had choked on his Porcini Funghi or had let go of the wheel with Cristian in the passenger seat.
A part from the car breaking down, the mist blocking out the view and skipping the daily dose of 3 ice creams, the Barley's stay in Umbria-Toscana was a hit.


The Barley Clan and Cristian.


Twins?


Who is worst at aiming for the medieval fountain?


Not in the UK...


C is petrified whilst James scooters on.


Time for bed - Cristian and Anchovy Paste

WHAT IT REALLY LOOKED LIKE
When the Pretoriuses came over for the weekend in Cortona after having been thrown out of their hotel in Florence (they claim they were out when it happened, but where they really??? Or was it more like a celebrity stunt, trashing the hotel room that got them kicked out?)
Nonetheless, after a few decaf cappuccinos, which were impossible to count, and accompanied by strange pastries, this is what they looked like.


A happy morning.

Corli went round Cortona ripping people's jeans... these are Barry's.

A tense tummy.

At La Grotta.