Truth be told I had rather a good weekend away from the search for a viable homeland, and ended up accompanying the human to Conferenceville to discuss the finer points of a contradiction in terms.He prattled on as usual about fiction that insists on telling you it's fiction, to an audience largely bent on explaining how and why every word of their memoirs should be believed even if things didn't actually happen that way. They all richly deserved each other; and possible fractiousness was staved off by a panel chair who saved the day with a can of shaving cream.
The welcome was warm, the natives were hospitable, the food was excellent and the couches were Chesterfield. No complaints save the fake fireplace: all flame and no heat, which led me to propose my patent cold remedy to a most ungrateful colleague:
My own ulterior motive for visiting Châteauneuf-upon-Hunter was of course to find a suitable châtelaine, but as usual, nothing doing. Sigh! They're getting hard to find on the CityRail network.
1 comment:
Hugo, a pleasure to make your unpixelated acquaintance. More power to your hippopomposity.
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