Tag Archives: The Arrival of Spring

My house for a Hockney? Well, I’d miss the spitting cones …

Ahhhh. Spring. I love it. Well, when it’s sunny I do. Yes, even if it’s ch-ch-ch-ch-chilly. Today the trees have that Impressionist look about them – les nuages comme des little puffs of Pope-announcing white smoke. Le ciel, bleu comme … Continue reading

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