Wednesday today
The time, sponsored by Accurist, is ten twenty-six and thirty seconds
Toppo is dead
I expected them to be functional, like her shopping lists; Burr, Shoog, Kit-e-kat; but these were different.
They weren’t so much aides memoires as tableaux vivants, but that’s enough French, it’s my gran we’re talking about, the woman who believes wogs start at Calais and charity begins at home.
She has no truck with speaking French, but she has a peculiar way of spelling which does owe something to the language of Proust and Napoleon.
Out of the two she’d probably have more sympathy with Napoleon. She’s always thought Madeleine cakes were over rated.
Spelling is where it stops for her though. The frogs are just over the water, but she manages to keep them at bay by keeping a pot of perpetually stewing tea on the go.
But she does like to say burr instead of butter, and she likes her day trips to the land of four course lunches.
A woman of many parts, you might say. Or if you were feeling uncharitable you might say she’s a contrary old bat.
Either way, she’s my Gran and she’s been writing the strangest notes and leaving them all over the house.
