Mary Fleming

Friday, 30 July Incessant noise hews the mellow summer air and crushes the ability to think. In Paris yesterday, hands over my ears, I stared at our kitchen wall, expecting it to crumble at any minute under the deafening, juddering drilling from next door. In the Perche, the hammering and

Too many grains of sandFriday, 8 July William Blake may have been able to see a World in a Grain of Sand, but I need something a little bigger to encapsulate my Paris life, which last Saturday 3 July clocked in at 40 years, close to the Eternity evoked by

Friday, 4 June The last couple of months, we have been attentive observers at an archaeological dig. Or so it has often seemed, since the re-haul of our old house got underway early April. Part One of our renovation project in the Perche transformed a 19th century barn into living

Friday, 22 May Two days ago, I had a Proustian moment. The reverberating memory in my case did not involve a spongy cake; rather, it was conjured by a trip to the Préfecture de Paris. For those of you unfamiliar with Marcel Proust's A la recherche du temps perdu (In

Friday, 7 May One recent lockdown evening, I watched the new film version of Rebecca on Netflix. Based on Daphne du Maurier's 1938 novel, it's the story of a young woman who becomes the second wife of the wealthy Max de Winter after his first, apparently beloved wife's tragic death.

Friday, 23 April I’ve been thinking about the swallows. As regular readers know, we displaced a large family of them when we began to convert a barn into living space last year out here in the Perche. Before the works started, while we were locked down last April, David

Before - 13 April 2019Friday, 9 April If our house weren’t at the end of the lane, we might have driven right by it. Such were the changes to its outward appearance when we recently returned from a long trip to London. We had been warned. Claire, our green

Moving? Again?Friday, 26 March On Tuesday evening, we walked through the newly opened passage and our hearts fell into our dusty shoes. The long-awaited move into the renovated barn was taking place the next day. Cleared and ready, the space was not. No room for Carl the piano here.

The Fleming-Kotharis and the Arnolfini Friday, 12 March “What if she’s late?” Georgina asked when we were planning a month-long London trip to coincide with the birth of her and Amal’s baby, our grand-daughter. An astute point from the mother-to-be. Humans can land on Mars and engineer

Friday, 19 February It felt like we were preparing for a dangerous, perhaps impossible mission. All week long I was amassing staples – oil, pasta, tins of tuna and tomatoes. Closer to departure, I bought perishables and David stocked up on another essential, wine. When not shopping and packing, I was

Friday, 5 February “By the end of next week,” our green guru Claire said, “it’s going to look like Verdun.” That was in early November last year. The indoor renovation of our property in the Perche had been going on for months, and it was finally, much to David’

Friday, 15 January If you saw the above photo while still deranged with grief over the recent death of your last beloved lost dog, would you have been able to resist saving her from the pound? If you are normally a responsible, rational adult, the answer to the above question

Friday, 1st January For the last weeks, it seems I have been living almost constantly in the dark. I wake and work and walk Tasha before the sun comes up, and often don’t go outside again until the dog’s late afternoon promenade, when the day is well on

Friday, 11 December In the sweet and funny 1993 film Groundhog Day, Bill Murray plays Phil Connor, a curmudgeonly weatherman sent to small town Punxutawny, Pennsylvania to cover the eponymous event.* A snowstorm retains him in the town and, it turns out, in time: he keeps waking up to the

Friday, 20 November Where would we be, I sometimes shudder to think, if my friend Tala, a second-career gardener, hadn't trawled the internet and found Claire, another second-career gardener.   Last year, when we bought Deux Champs, our property in the Perche, it came as two lots: the one hectare (2.

Friday, 6 November I got my wish and am back in Paris but it’s been a bit of a rough week. The American elections have made concentration on anything else close to impossible. Whatever your political views, it’s distressing to see a nation so riven, especially when the

Friday, 23 October Poor Paris. She has been getting short shrift in this Paris-Perche Diary; Covid-19 keeps getting in the way. First the two months of confinement during which we holed up in the Perche, then the subsequent period when Paris seemed sad and still germ-ier than the countryside and

Friday, 25 September As I was saying last week, before a fire interrupted me: Sometimes I look at the barn we are turning into living space out here in the Perche and am surprised it’s still standing. The masons, back from their summer holiday, have continued to blast holes

Friday, 18 September Today began like most second Fridays. I woke up and worked on my blog, walked the dog, ate breakfast and worked more on my blog, this one about progress on our barn reconstruction project, as well our growing knowledge of this place in the Perche that we

Friday, 4 September As a child I dreaded going back to school in September. During the summer my mind softened like overripe fruit and firming it back into academic shape loomed darkly in my psyche. The condition lightened a bit in early adulthood, then got worse again when I had

Masonic dustFriday, 31 July Our place in the Perche this morning is more crowded than Paris. Or so it seems. We left the eerily quiet city early today in order to beat the heat (37°C/98.6°F) and the hordes of holiday makers expected on the roads at

clouds approachingFriday, 17 July Every July my husband David and I have the same exchange. He says: “Summer is now here. Paris will calm down and empty out.” And I reply: “No it won’t. Not until August. July is one big traffic jam.” Unfortunately I am always right. The

Friday, 3 July This morning I woke up at 5 to mild panic: I am supposed to write a blog today and I do not have a single idea. After a few minutes tossing and still not even a hint of a plan, I got up, made my coffee, and

Friday, 19 June Our third major renovation project in six years is now underway. After Berlin 2014-15 and Paris 2017-18, it’s the Perche 2020-21. Or so we hope. If there’s one thing we’ve learned from experience, it’s pay no attention to predicted time frames. Neither of

The Wild One amid the wild flowersFriday, 29 May On our walk through the Perche countryside this morning, it occurred to me that Tasha the dog has some striking similarities to Voltaire’s Candide. For those of you who have not read the eponymous novel by the Enlightenment philosopher: it