Moments from my day: Paris

We walked through Le Jardin de Tuileries, past its barren trees and green chairs, past its large pond where in the Summer you would find toy boats racing for victory. We walked to the Jardin des Plantes and somehow sneaked in (without realising) into its tropical greenhouse, and then proceeded to the Musee de l’Orangerie to see Monet’s Water Lilies. We entered the atrium and stood in awe and then, as we prepared to leave the exhibition, we entered into a second atrium which contained his other Water Lilies and we stood in total bewilderment.

A Dedication To My Wife

To whom I owe the leaping delight

That quickens my senses in our wakingtime

And the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime,

The breathing in unison

Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other

Who think the same thoughts without need of speech

And babble the same speech without need of meaning.

No peevish winter wind shall chill

No sullen tropic sun shall wither

The roses in the rose-garden which is ours and ours only

But this dedication is for others to read:

These are private words addressed to you in public.  

T.S. Eliot

Sleep

My elegant wife and her flower crown

Zola & Roscoe

I named Zola after Emile Zola. At the time of naming him I had recently read Zola's L'assommoir which captured my imagination -- the pathos and brutality of its characters' lives resonated with me somehow, but the main reason I loved the novel was simply the brilliant storytelling. 

Roscoe was named after a song by the band, Midlake, which I listened to on loop for the better part of a year. The song similarly harks back to the past and evokes a kind of sadness...  Yet, in spite of their somewhat sombre names, Roscoe and Zola are for me symbols of possibly the happiest period of my life so far.

Moments from my day

My elegant wife, Jardin des Tuileries, Paris