I have been remiss, I have been busy: London for the Forward Prize awards (which Jorie Graham won, not in the least spoiling my pleasure at being on the shortlist), to see my daughter who moved two weeks ago to Hackney, and friends. Bookstores, books.
Back to Paris two days ago, and some catching up: a piece of writing to do (draft completed), quiet mornings reading, writing to settle into. Supermarket for vegetables and yogurt and some rabbit legs (cooked a la moutarde today, with one left for lunch tomorrow); today, in the late afternoon gentle drizzle through the Luxembourg Garden to my favorite pastry. I see I have missed the annual sale of honey from the Luxembourg hives, but I still have two jars from last year's sale; apprentice beekeepers were being examined in a building behind the hive enclosure. The pears and apples on the orchard are swathed in muslin sachets; the "plaqueminier" (persimmon) fruits are round and green and impossibly sleek; the leaves on other trees were turning color, falling, damp. And so to bed.