Fergie47:
Lovely morning, breakfast with a view…just thought I’d share it…
Evening all,
Oh Fergie, of all the important bits of France that I miss…its those inward opening windows…and the views…
Perchance that grass is mowed with something more precise than a little Fergie, and a pasture topper?..I cannot get that finish with a flail mower, or a triple bladed finishing job, on a 540 rpm pto!..You have got a “posh” mower hidden away somewhere…
Breakfast…I`ve had a few surprises…
Second morning in my new “digs” in the hot and bustling city of Marseille…my kind, and so caring land lady served me a “true” English Breakfast…I should have known from the large soup dish…I stared down…to meet the unblinking gaze of a totally raw egg, residing, Amoeba like, astride two rashers of almost raw ham…she , (my new landlady), smiled at me…I thought of England…and tucked in…thank goodness there were two large Croissants to mask the flavoursome progress to my digestive system…
Then, years later, “a meet and greet Brunch”, held at a resteraunt named Cattlemans, in downtown Dallas Texas…So I could meet my new colleagues, and some of the clients of Mack Trucks Irving Boulevard operation…To say I was a tad nervous would be an understatement…how to dress…English three piece suit, (in 30 plus degrees), all my new colleagues seemed at least 7 ft tall…all in pointy toed boots, pin striped trousers, and crisp ironed white shirts…and hats so large…
Then came the food…about a gallon of Orange Juice…and then the cooked bit…what looked like the entire rear end of a Welsh Dexter, with eggs, like the headlights of an S 80 Foden…squash, Strawberries, waffles, (drenched in sweet tasting sump oil…was that really maple syrup)? something like a crucified Annabell potato… How on earth could I consume this vast quantity of food, speak, think, answer questions…(“say, how did you learn to speak such good English for a Frenchie”)…My first letter home, was a request to my wife to get me any little lapel badge that was a Union Jack…bless her she did…and from the day of its receipt, to the day I handed my documents back in Paris…I always wore it!
I never got used to the quantities of food in the US…or the drinks…and nmm I can remember the plastic rap around cheese…“with added cheese flavour”…avoided it at all costs…how I longed for a cup of tea…or even a normal sized sandwich!
Wonder if my tea is ready?
Cheerio for now.