Friday, 23 July 2010

Zoot alors - encore

mainly sunny, warm, temps 25

An absolutely splendid morning. Glorious. A golden day, calm and fragrant, and the gardens and lawn never looked better. Our lawn is actually - of you look closely - clover. Which is why if Wayne doesn't cut it fairly often, you don't have to look too closely. It's covered in white flowers. And after a rain, if it gets very hot, the whole place smells of sweet clover.

The geese have gone! 30 of them at last count. The poop was legend. People could have written epic poems about it.

They all left yesterday - but somehow one get left behind. I went out to the pond in a rain shower, taking some bread, to keep it company. it was honking and wailing. God, it broke my heart. So I sat there, getting soaked, and honked back. But after a while I suspected far from comforting this poor lost one, I was just upsetting it. so I stopped. And went home. And prayed that in the morning it would be gone or the others would have returned.

And sure enough this morning four had returned. Then, while Michael and I worked on the porch, we heard a great honking and they all rose up together. And left. Phew.

Did editing this morning. Some sections a little rough. Some I find unexpectedly moving. Very strange when I'm moved by my own writing. As though someone else had written it.

Then had the pre-interview in french at 2pm to decide if my french was good enough to do a TV interview in August to promote the french version of Still Life _ En plein coeur. Marie-Josee phoned and we talked. Well, she talked and I bumbled along - then, to my surprise, at the end she said my french was fine.

Now - she either has a very high tolerance for idiocy, or she was drunk. Or perhaps she hates her host and wants to inflict a moron on her. But she seemed to believe it would be fine. I have just under a month to brush up. Very frustrating to have complex thoughts and only simple words to express them.

I must say, though - I'm delighted.

Must run down to Vermont to do some mailing before the post office closes. Speak to you tomorrow! Hope you're enjoying the summer!

6 comments:

Donna K Wisc. said...

Dear Louise,

Oh you really touched my heart with the goose story.. how special!
Anyone who would care about them like that and do what you did has it all in my eyes. It's great that some came back..how nature works.. I wonder why it didn't go right away..playing hard to get?
Not wanting to leave your place ?And trying to tell them they had a good thing going...I can hear their honkey talk now, "But these people actually put up with our poop even!" "People like this don't come around that often!"

SO glad the writing is going well and can hardly wait for the book(s) to come out.

You are enjoying nature as are we here in Wisc.

Reine said...

Bon. Glad you passed your french orals. Just wondering how you say 'poopsicle' in french. Anyone who writes about poop as much as you will be asked. I am sure. And that poor little goose was probably constipated and too heavy to fly from all the bread you were feeding him. Speaking of poop - we are having another thunder and lightning storm. Poop alors!

A. Wright said...

"The poop was legend. People could have written epic poems about it."

This just cracked me up, goose poop is nasty stuff.

--Alice

TennesseeSuz said...

You are both a wonderful writer and a very nice lady...I enjoy your comments on daily life almost as much as your books...Honking at a goose...are you sure you are not from the American South (thought we had a monopoly on slightly crazy but enormously talented writers?

lil Gluckstern said...

I too loved the goose story, so glad it was rescued by its friends. I have a sense that your books are becoming much literary than mystery, although so much is a mystery, isn't it? What I mean is your books seem to more and more explore human nature, and its frailties, strengths and sheer gutsiness. Really can't wait for "Bury Your Dead." And now this one...sorry, I've forgotten the name.

Louise Penny Author said...

Hi all,

I'm glad you liked what happened with the goose - I was a little embarrassed to tell you. Though, come to think of it, TennesseeSuz might have a point. If sitting in the rain honking at a goose doesn't win me the Nobel Prize for literature I don't know what will.

Feel free to start a grass roots campaign.