AN UNUSUAL and unexpected invitation arrived the other day, one that made us ponder deeply on our whole purpose here on this earth.
The address was given as Foyer des Anciens, UNRPA.
Right. Eyes down for our monthly French lesson. Le
Marie-Ange, serious contender for the title of busiest woman in the village, rang up the other day to tell us about a film to be shown a couple of days later. On no account were we to miss it, she said. It was a truly remarkable record of the vill
THE OTHER Josephine appeared with A Bisto de Nas, a book by sombody called Bernard Vavassori. You'll probably recognise that A Bisto de Nas isn't French, and you might have a job deciding what language it is, if it isn't s
ON THE face of it, it was a very flattering invitation. They wanted me to go and read them an extract from one of my own books.
"We're a ladies' cultural association," the organiser said. "Once a year we hold evenings d
My husband has a foolproof method for ascertaining just how French our children are becoming. Every Sunday morning as we tuck into our boiled eggs he asks them two questions:
What is the best football team in the world and was Napoleon a g