While on the subject of my current obsession with les fleurs noires, I am of a mind to recall the wonderful novella, La Tulipe Noire by Alexander Dumas père. I loved the story when I was a child and once was fluent enough in French to read the novella in its original language. Sigh. Long, long ago. Now, I struggle to read Le Monde on the pros and cons of the niqāb ban.
I'm really thinking we'll have lots of beautiful gardens and there will be no children breaking our fleurs with their basketballs, frisbees or boomerangs. I'm just not sure what we'll do about all the cats that will be flocking to join Les Chats des Les Comtesses, however. Perhaps Les Deux Chiens will keep interlopers out of the gardens.
I so wish I was in Portland or Portland today.
Le sigh encore.