Archangel’s new skin

The monastery of the Mont-Saint-Michel in Normandy is topped by a statue of an archangel whose English name would be Michael. Yesterday evening, a wonderful TV documentary showed the steps involved, on earth, in replacing the archangel’s golden skin.

We then saw him being carried back up by helicopter to his home in the sky. Click here for a newspaper article on this operation, which includes a short video. The same Normandy-based show presented the elegant tomb in Caen of a distant ancestor who interests me greatly: William the Conqueror.

 

My chart on this link [click to enlarge] goes back through

my paternal grandmother Kathleen Pickering [1889-1964]:

Lad on a bike

This courageous Scotsman, Danny MacAskill, is never afraid of falling off his bike. You have to wait until the end of the documentary to discover that falls occur regularly.

This fellow is no longer a friend of France

Vladimir Putin is persevering in bombardments of Aleppo. The president of France, François Hollande, made it obvious to Putin that he was no longer welcome in France unless he talked solely about putting an end to the slaughter of civilians in Syria. France is surely not alone in looking upon Putin as a blood-thirsty criminal and an obstacle to peace in the Middle East.

Bright French girl

Admirers call her Christine, but her real name is Héloïse Letissier.

Click here to access an article on this extraordinary young lady. She sings. She dances. And she talks beautifully. She's the top.

Once upon a time, I saw a drone

Click here to see my one and only encounter with a hobby drone at Gamone. These days, on the web, I discover more and more presentations of amazing new models. I've even heard a rumor that the Apple company might be about to hit the market with a sort of Macintosh iDrone... but don't quote me on that. When you think about it, it was inevitable that the people who dream about manufacturing hobby drones would finally get their act together. It seems that the moment has arrived...

A common feature of the new models that I've discovered is the elegant quality of the navigational device held in the hands of the pilot. I still have the impression that I live in the middle of a top-quality drone territory. There's a vast area of mountainous slopes beneath a gigantic volume of airspace. And no human beings who might get upset. There are, however, a few minor problems. Quite often, a helicopter appears in the sky above Choranche. Sometimes, towards the top of the valley, there are base-jumpers. And often we receive the visit of a couple of Mirage jets. Apart from those disturbances, it's mostly totally calm here.

Black dog and foam mattress

This story will not be accompanied by any photos, in spite of the fact that I spent about an hour this morning out on the front lawn alongside Fitzroy, and I would have had more than enough time to take photos...  not only of my dog but, above all, of the foam mattress that he had methodically and expertly destroyed in the early hours of the morning.

Up until this morning, I had never imagine that Fitzroy would be determined to perform such a spectacular demolition job. It was carried out with precision, like a great surgical operation. Big chunks of foam were broken into smaller fragments and these were then separated into even smaller fragments, and so on. And all this confetti was spread out over a large area... with the help of morning breezes.

I was totally stunned. I tried to ask my dog a question: "Fitzroy, why did you do that?" But my dog was so exhausted (a consequence of his nocturnal activities) that he didn't have enough energy to provide me with an explanation. So, the mystery remains...

This is not misanthropy

Since returning to Gamone towards the end of 2015, I’ve often imagined the idea of searching for a female companion. I’ve imagined—to take the most obvious example—that I might find her through the Internet, in much the same way that some of my best friends have done so. Of course it wouldn’t be easy. In fact it might even be damn near impossible, for many reasons. Would it be worth a try? Well, my final answer is negative. Even were I to succeed ideally in unearthing such an improbable companion, I’m not at all convinced that it might be a good idea to terminate my solitude. But I repeat the title of my post : This is not a case of misanthropy. Well then, what is it?

The relationship between two individuals in love changes significantly when they move away from their youthful era and into old age. I’m not suggesting that it’s better during the primary phase and worse during the secondary. There’s quite possibly the same degree of intensity and happiness. But the relationship is profoundly different, because it changes mathematically with advancing age. In the beginning, the two individuals probably imagined procreation as a fundamental goal… and they may or may not have succeeded in that ambition. They probably envisaged common ambitions such as acquiring a home, and establishing a family foyer.

With advancing age, people think differently. Inevitably, they are reminded periodically that one of them might soon disappear. If it were I who disappeared, then my companion would surely be sad. And if it were she who disappeared, then I would be sad. To call a spade a spade, our relationship would give rise to two possible cases of sadness. To avoid that outcome, I find it preferable to abandon the idea of seeking a female companion. So, I shall remain a solitary individual. Now, is my conclusion a demonstration of misanthropy?

I thought he belonged to the past

Often, since my arrival in France, Ive heard of a distinguished composer named Vladimir Cosma, born in Romania.

Although we have practically the same age, 76, I had soon imagined that this famous musician belonged to a distant past. Maybe this silly belief might have been enhanced by the fact that Cosma celebrities—Teodor and Edgar—formed a distinguished musical family in Romania. Vladmir Cosma composed the following well-known melodies:

Click image to enlarge and link to YouTube

Maybe you didn't recognize that final example.

Here's a more memorable version:

Click image to enlarge and link to YouTube

And here's another example of both melodies:

 

Click image to enlarge and link to YouTube

Utter secrecy is a necessity

I spoke here about a special new French police record identified by the letter S. For obvious reasons, mayors of French municipalities might like to be informed about the presence of citizens with S records.

 

Click here to access an article in which the minister of the Interior Bernard Cazeneuve repeats that such information will never be divulged. The general idea is that the police need to follow such individuals, to find out whether they're a security risk. Such police pursuits would be hindered by the public disclosure of S records.

Will Jeanne be a champion forever?

The French lady Jeanne Calment [1875-1997], who lived in Arles, holds the current world record for longevity : 122 years. But old age records are not exactly rocket science, and older contenders may have existed, or continue to exist, for this record.

Jean-Louis Serre, a French professor of genetics, wonders here whether it might be impossible for humans to live any longer than that.