Ass on Fire

This could be the title of a porn film. Instead, it's of the state of my butt.
 I've been having so much fun with my telescopic pruning saw, that I decided to have a go at the African acacia tree. The ones you see in temperate U.S. climates have lovely fern-like leaves and fragrant flowers. African acacias are designed to discourage hungry elephants and giraffes, hence, the 2-inch thorns that have an irritating sap.

Another defense mechanism is the smell. As soon as I made the first cut, an odor like a warm cesspool hit me.That's when I decided to cut down the entire tree.
 I got all the branches off and dragged them to the pile of garden debris, then went back for the trunk which wasn't very big, but heavy enough that I needed to drag it while walking backwards. Because this shit only happens to me, I of course tripped, just as I reached the pile, and landed right on the cut branches. Many, many swear words later, I sat in a tub with water and ice. It looks like my butt was used for a game of darts.
 And no, I can't show you a picture, I don't have a wide-angle lens.                                            

Seasick in a Tree

Gardening in the tropics is interesting, to say the least. The other day, I found a baby puffer fish while weeding, and a mushroom that smells like decaying flesh. I think the puffer fish must have been scooped up by a pelican or a frigate, then spat out when he puffed up his spines  (the garden ends at a cliff, overlooking the bay.

Today, I decided to prune the coconut tree because the nuts keep falling on the garden lamps and breaking them. Here is the equipment needed:

-Beer. This is the first and most important step. Put a six-pack to chill, otherwise you can't have a cold beer when the pruning is done.
-Hard-hat.  I didn't actually wear it but it looks pretty butch.
-A pruning saw and telescopic pole..
-A ladder
-A strap to lash the ladder to the tree.
So I'm on the ladder, avoiding looking down, because I'll certainly say to myself,  "you're at the top of a 13 foot ladder, wielding a saw on a 12 foot pole. Are you effing crazy ?!", and hoping I don't disturb any stinging centipedes which may be napping in the nooks and crannies of the trunk.

For those of you who have never done this or are planning to in the future, know that to get at the coconuts, you must first cut off the frond directly beneath. I sawed and sawed, getting covered  in all the crap that accumulates in a palm frond, then got hit with said frond as it fell, but didn't get knocked off the ladder. Note to self: DO NOT saw the fronds directly above you, idiot. Next came the coconuts. A green coconut weighs about 5 lbs, and there are 6-8 coconuts in a cluster. If  you can calculate the velocity of  40 lbs. falling from a height of 30 feet ( I can't ), that is some serious shit whistling past your head.
So, you know those cheesy Hawaiian songs about palm trees swaying in the breeze? It's another story when you're IN the tree. Seeing the clouds roll by through the fronds, mixed with the swaying of the tree is exactly like standing on a rolling deck. I don't do well on boats unless I'm fishing and have something to concentrate on.
I had to stop, and was feeling too nauseous to drink my hard-earned beer.
I'll try again in a few days. I will not be defeated by coconuts.

 

French Kissing

I overheard this snippet of conversation from my daughter. "……so Hugo said he's going to kiss Marie with his tongue but not his mouth". WTF! She's only 9! All kinds of alarms are going off in my head, but at the same time it made me laugh my butt off.
Then I started to think about French Kissing. Apparently the term dates back as far as 1730. So here we have a woman who gets kissed by a Frenchman who slips in a little tongue action. The young lady thinks to herself "so this is how the French kiss!" She immediately tells all her friends, et voila! French Kissing is born.
I tried to imagine it with other nationalities but none convey the same excitement. Except Spain maybe. Spanish Kissing. Nope, I must be thinking of Spanish Fly. How about Swedish kissing, German kissing, Japanese kissing, Sri Lankan kissing? No, no, et non! It only works with French. But back to our demoiselle. How was she being kissed before, the poor thing? And did that kiss lead her down a path of debauchery and decadence? I hope so.
There is something that intrigues me, though. How is it that the French were nominated as masters in the art of Kama Sutra tongue manoeuvres when they can't even manage the "th" sound? "Ze cat is out of zee bag". See what I mean?
I'm married to a Frenchman. A vrai Parisien. I know the answer but I never kiss and tell.

Groundhog Day

My birthday is on Groundhog Day and like those fat furry little creatures, I disappear to hibernate for the winter. This year I certainly must have seen my shadow for I remained in my burrow for well past the traditional 6 extra weeks. I regretfully spent that time wallowing in self-pity for numerous reasons but in the end none of them are really worth it. My life could be much worse than I sometimes imagine it to be, so shame on me for complaining.
Spring is taking her time this year in France. Mid-April and I've yet to hear a cuckoo in the forest. For me, the arrival of the cuckoos is the official start of spring. However, I can't listen to them without remembering  the first time I ever heard one , I thought my neighbors had a malfunctioning clock that went off about 18 times several times an hour.
But even though Spring and the cuckoos are late, flowers are everywhere and the forest is turning greener every day. I was actually able to see this at very close range on Easter Sunday, having been face down on the ground after my horse, ahem, dislodged me from the saddle. I'm spending the next two weeks in a full leg brace while the ligaments in my knee mend. Merde!
I hobbled around the garden today seeing which plants survived the harsh winter and long frost. 

Do Not Disturb

The next two weeks of my life.

Hot Sex In A Small Tin Can

I occasionally come across misguided attempts to Anglicize the French language. This is a fine example. I haven't heard this word in a while,and don't know if it's still "courant" but then again, I don't get to speak a lot of English here either. But back in the day it meant hot, fast sex. Oh, yes, oh yes! Which sadly reminds me that at this point in my life things tend to be rather tepid and too fast.  However, I do like the idea. It even says on the lid, "with one motion, a refreshed, clear face". The packaging is also discreet and accident proof. No chance of being escorted off the plane by an air marshall because of a suspicous buzzing emanating from your carry-on. 

This next image comes from Japan and I only wish I had been present while the marketing exec sold this to the store owners as a sure-fire way to attract American clients.

Drunk Texting

I would like use that as an excuse for last night but I only had one glass of wine. All I can say is '85 Médoc kicks ass. I was all over the place! Or maybe it was the acme of a mood swing. Also, I was excited as a puppy (minus the piddling) to see people other than my close friends, reading my blog. Tonight is different. I spent a quiet evening painting with my neighbor and partner-in-crime. Right now I'm working on Don Diego de la Vega and the others are almost finished. I paint by the glaze method so most paintings take a few months

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