Mary Fleming

On Being Human

Friday, 2 October It’s the same story every time. When preparations begin for a major event in Paris, I grumble and grouse about the inconvenience, the disruption, the fanfare. When the event occurs, I repent, admit that I was a misguided naysayer and that the fuss was worthwhile after

Entering Autumn

Friday, 11 September It is achingly beautiful this morning in the Perche. As you can see from the above photo, the sky is a true blue; as you can sense, the air is crisply autumnal. Enough rain has fallen in the last fortnight to generate green shoots amidst the downtrodden

How We Are

Friday, 31 July Several friends and family members have written recently asking about the forest fires in France and whether we are anywhere near them. They want to know how we are. The Perche, which you will not find on a map because it is a historical rather than an

Ancestral Foraging

Friday, 10 July A few years ago, my cousin Barbara wrote: “The Melvins came to Canada from Ireland - County Armagh. Dad used to say we were really Scottish – that ‘we only stayed in Ireland long enough to get the red hair.’” I’d known about the Scottish roots, the Northern

Summer in the City (almost)

Friday, 19 June There’s only one thing on my mind this blog Friday and it's the heat. The very hot heat, with no relief in sight. I watched the temperatures rise with increasing anxiety and now it's here... ...for as far as the iPhone can

Civilisation Française Revisited

Friday, 15 May Last week I fell in love with France all over again. And I’m feeling pretty tight with my bike too. Virginie, a Paris and Berlin friend, dropped the idea of a May bicycle trip on me last year, and having never done such a thing, I

What Lies Ahead

Friday, 24 April It's 6am in the Perche, and I am sipping a frothy double espresso on my chaise longue. Tasha is curled up on one of her several beds. At this time of year, the sun has risen just enough to wake the first songbirds. But regardless

Sold Out

Friday, 3 April 2026 I had dinner last week with old friends, Americans like me who have lived in Paris so many years they're better left uncounted. We started talking about the rue de Rivoli department store BHV. I say "department store", but the BHV is

Getting to Know You

Friday, 20 March "I love the change of seasons," I effused out loud to myself on a recent morning dog walk in the Perche. Whether the natural world is coming alive or preparing for sleep, I feel a thrill at the transformation. Spring is of course easy to

A Tale of Two Cities

Friday, 20 February Until last week, I always felt embarrassed when someone would mention Bruges or Ghent, two renowned Belgian cities that everyone but me (and my husband David) seemed to have visited. Caught up in the transhumance between Paris and the Perche (or before that the Berlin-Paris version

Going High

Friday, 30 Janvier “When they go low,” Michelle Obama famously said at the 2016 Democratic National Convention, “we go high.” She was responding to Republican candidate Donald Trump’s campaign against his Democratic opponent Hillary Clinton. “When someone is cruel or acts like a bully,” the outgoing first lady said,

A Tale of Two Worlds

Friday, 9 January 2026 Everyone knows the opening line to Charles Dickens A Tale of Two Cities, about its being the best and worst of times, but the other day I read on and found that the sentence in its entirety aptly and eloquently summed up the end of my

Wistful Wandering

Friday, 12 December I am a borderline nostaholic. Not the kind who thinks everything was better once upon a time but the type who wades into memories, my own or the world's, and wallows like a happy hippo in the mud. The concept of nostalgia, composed of the

A Dark Night to Remember

Friday, 14 November 2025 Today I'd planned to write about our recent trip to Berlin, but yesterday was the 10th anniversary of the 13 November terrorist attacks and the report from across the Rhine will have to wait until next time. This morning all my thoughts are here

A Constant Battle

Friday, 24 October On my way home from lunch with a friend the other day, my bike-lane was blocked by a large cordoned off area around the Pantheon. From the elaborate sound and light systems being installed… …you’d have thought they were preparing for a rock concert. In

What Brings Us Together

Friday, 3 October Who’d have thought that a waffle-maker could brighten your day. Granted I'm not talking about the modern electric machines with fancy settings and Teflon coated plates. I’m talking about simple iron ones from long ago. And the man who collects them. Our

Georgia Revisited

Friday, 12 September “How are your emotions?” our guide in Tusheti National Park asked near the end of our day-trip to this remote, mountainous region in the northeastern corner of the country of Georgia. “My emotions are great,” I replied. Tip-top, in fact, both literally and metaphorically: I

Sun, Sun, Sun, Here It Comes

Friday, 29 August This summer was all about that blazing ball in the sky. Day after day. From dawn… …until dusk… …we felt its fire. And we were lucky. Our arid heat in the Perche was nothing compared to the south, where temperatures regularly soared to 40°C/104°F

The Golden Age of Tasha

Friday, 25 July Before I break for summer, a bloglet with some news from my muse... For recent arrivals to this photo-essay, Tasha is the dog I rashly adopted in a fit of grief after the death of the blog’s ur-muse Elsa. Not the easiest of canines,

Steep Steps, Revisited

Friday, 27 June Recent events have sent me back. Specifically, back to a blog I wrote about a trip to Iran in 2016, a mere month before Donald Trump’s first presidential election victory. The Iran nuclear deal had been signed the previous year. In exchange for limiting uranium enrichment,

Corn Star

Friday, 13 June For the last few weeks, I have been watching corn. Not porn. Corn. Although it did start with the above steamy scene. Actually, it started before that. It started four years ago when Patrice and his son Vincent planted alfalfa, clover and broad beans to restore natural

Hidden Dangers

Friday, 23 May After six years in the Perche, it can still surprise me: we live without another house in sight, yet a charming town big enough to satisfy most of our needs is a scant 10-minute drive away. On its outskirts, there is even a hilly golf course

There Goes History Again

Friday, 2 May Those of you who have read my latest novel Civilisation Française (and those who haven’t, it’s not too late!) will know that the Marais, where the protagonists rattle around in a grand but rundown old house, has much occupied my imaginary life these last years.

Ode to Joy

Friday, 11 April To borrow again from my old friend Mr Eliot: April is the driest month. Hot too. Okay, I admit to some poetic licence in the above statements. April is obviously not, in absolute terms, the driest or the warmest month. But according to la Chaîne Météo, rainfall

Where Do the Children Play?

Friday, 14 March Aside from the US President's recent fit of pique dangling the possibility of World War III, what better reminder to take seriously the threat of war today than a remnant of war yesterday? Last Friday morning I rode the métro to the Gare du Nord