A WARNING: Dear Guest! Don't gnash your teeth everytime you meet a spelling or a syntax mistake! English is not my first language! So, please, be clement and keep in mind that, beyond the form, it's the content which truly matters!
You are intrigued by my personality? My sheer sagacity? My broad, shrewd, swift mind? The pertinence of my words? And you want to know more about me? I suggest you click on the three following links:
[Sheri - A Brief History]
[Sheri's Pictures]
[Sheri's Articles]
Aladdin's magic lamp !
Genie...?!! Where are you...?
Now just look at this! A relic of the great Islamic period, probably dating back to Harun-al-Rachid's time. Belonged to my grandfather.
I told Brinsley that, once upon a time, a genie inhabited this bronze oil lamp, (un)fortunatly set free by its last owner...! You should have seen the sudden amazement mixed with exhilaration on my boy's face! ....... His eyes gleaming with sheer delight!
I think I'll give it to Brinsley and order a plexiglass box to put it on display. I intend to write short related stories which I would read to my son every night while glancing at the lamp. I believe it would look nice on his bedside table.
Sweet dreams, little body! The genie is still there, hanging around the lamp, protecting you in your sleep from prowling beasts and bad sorcerers...!
[3 comments]- Handsome...?!!! Rubbish, I say!
- Last night a couple of friends came for dinner. Pierric and Michèle. They are fairly good-natured and it was, on the whole, pretty enjoyable. We had a bottle of Morgon, which is one of the ten 'crus' from the Beaujolais appellation, and a bottle of Coteau du Layon, a sweet white wine from the Loire valley.
I cannot find a proper translation for the word cru. Most of you have surely heard of the Beaujolais nouveau which, I must reckon, is not always up to its reputation.
In fact, the Beaujolais area is divided in two fairly distinct parts, the north and the south. In the south we grow vine essentially to produce the Beaujolais nouveau, nouveau (new) meaning that, following a particular process of vinification, it is commercialized three months only after harvest. The Beaujolais nouveau is light and meant to be consummed immediatly.
Now, in the north, which is much more hilly, you have the ten 'crus', i.e. ten wine areas bearing each one a different name (Morgon, Moulin à Vent, Brouilly, Saint-Amour, etc...). The grape variety remains the same, exclusively Gamay, but the nature of the soil, the declivity, the exposure to sunlight and a special microclimate favour the making a quality wine.
Many people tend to snob those crus owing to the fact that they're made from Gamay which is wrongly considered a second rate grape variety. As a consequence, those wines remain affordable. That's, I believe, one first asset. The second asset is that it requires only four to five years rest in your cellar to reach excellence. For those who lack patience like me, this is an oppotunity. Five years is bearable, compared with many other 'quality' wines.
The only annoying thing in the evening happened when Michèle and Christelle connected to Maison-de-stuff in order to look at Loxe's pictures. "Handsome" they exclaimed unanimously! Handsome?!!! Lox?!!! What utter rubbish!
Une salade assaisonnée et un gratin de courgettes pour mon ami John...! Chaque ingrédient est issu de l'agriculture biologique.
[12 comments] - Sunset
Sunset from our flat...
No need for words.
[4 comments]- Overwhelmed with doubt
Solid Geometry. I find it much more digestible with a touch of blue, yellow, green and pink. Sometimes, though, I can get pretty sour (picture on the right).
Yesterday, my friend Nigel, devoured quite understandably by sheer anxiety, asked me why I tended to space out my entries. Studies, my good fellow, studies! In the last few months I had been neglecting them for the writing of a film script. Leading a carefree life, I played violon and danced like Lafontaine's cicada till I found myself constrained to resume my proper work. Work which was starting to pile up dangerously on my desk. I had no option but to catch up with the delay. I had to restart the engine which, I reckon, turned out to be a bit fussy at first. Now I seem to have reached a normal cruising speed. In cha' Allah!
As for the film script, I am still waiting for a response. The BBC Writersroom said I would have to wait up to four months. Three months and two weeks have passed so far. What conclusion should I draw? I am overwhelmed with doubt. They start with the first ten pages. They like it? They carry on with the reading. They don't like it? They send it back straight away, without any comment. Three months and two weeks. Would it mean that they found some merit in it, that it has some potential? I fear bitter disillusions.
[5 comments]- Alexandria. October 1943.
October 1943. My father (first picture, on the left) playing with his brother and sister on the beach in Alexandria. It is a somewhat astonishing picture given the general context of the period. These children were leading a priviledged life, completely unaware and unaffected by the war which was still raging off Egypt.
It reminds me of Durell's Quartet of Alexandria in which he describes, with great subtility, the fairly insouciant atmosphere which prevailed in Alexandria and Cairo while Mountgomery was fighting his guts out to win the battle of El Alamein.
My grandfather lived in Egypt (and partly Syria) from the thirties up to Faruk's destitution in the fifthies. He was appointed there as chairman of the tramway company which, prior to the 'Great Nationalization', was run by the Belgian. He took a lot of pictures. Knowing my great interest in them, my aunt and uncles offered me to keep his photo albums which I'm patiently restoring and scanning for duplication.
Talking about Durell, I finally managed to get a copy of his humorous book entitled Antrobus Complete which is unfortunatly out of print. I like it very much. So British in style!
- A review
- So. what do I want to talk about, today?
How about a review of my "family" on the web, such as I see it?
Yes... Let's start with John. Ze boss of ze Maison. An enigmatic figure, that John! Enthusiastic at times, never exuberant, often taciturn but not moody (at least in public). Doesn't show his feelings. When something doesn't please him, he remains silent and ignores, stiff upper lip, the source of inconvenience. In short, a gentleman through and through...!
Lox. Haha! Lox...! Un italiano vero! Gets carried away easily and seems to lose his temper quickly on trivial matters. However his ire doesn't last long, for he is good-hearted. No deeply rooted resentment.
Nigel. Craving for contact, like me. A civil servant... who has always a spare moment to chat on the blog! Doesn't seem to swear. Never says anything insulting regarding anyone. Good-hearted too. Always prompt to come to someone's help.
Mad Mumsie. A sparkling bit of a lady.
Sheri. Insane. Mental. A trifle arrogant. Talented but lacks discipline. Lazy at times. Too frank. Always speaks up his mind, particularly when he ought not to. Also too kind. Doesn't like humans, though he cannot resolve to trample on them.
And what about the others... Travis, Kev, Rob ? I don't know. They remain obscure, somehow.
[16 comments] - Martial in Vienne...
It is said that, if the rumour is right, my books are much valued in the charming city of Vienne. There, everyone reads me: the elder, the child, the adolescent and even the young chaste bride under the stern eye of her husband.
I was reading Martial's Epigrams the other day when I came across this bit of text. I was particularly moved.
Martial was a Roman satirical writer who lived in Rome in the first century AD. The few lines mentioned here were intended, as a token of his gratitude, for the inhabitants of Vienne, the town where I happen to live now.
I was moved because I couldn't help thinking that, two thousand years ago, people used to read, in this very place, the epigrams I'm reading now.
My house faces the remains of the Roman theatre. Martial's written works were most probably declaimed, or at least discussed, on its steps...!
The only thing which chagrins me is that probably no-one in modern Vienne knows who Martial was...
[6 comments]- Two-dimentional mind...
One needs more than one visual angle.
Some people, like my mother and brother, have a two-dimensional mind.
When they come to consider a comment, an idea or a thought, they tend to view it from their unique perspective. We could draw a comparison with an object. Say... a cube!
What I see is in three dimensions, i.e. the cube in itself. What they see is but one face, i.e. a square which is two-dimensional. Their problem is that they cannot move around it. They don't want to. They are literally glued to their viewpoint, or visual angle, and stand stubbornly firm. They don't know, thay cannot conceive that the square is merely one side of the cube.
The same goes with life. Everything they view is biased by their persistent prejudices. They cannot evolve because they don't look around them. They cannot tolerate a thought which differs from their's. They don't understand that people might see things differently.
The best way to extricate onself from such a mental swamp would be to meet other people from different backgrounds. LISTEN to what they have to say. Not just contemplate one's navel.
But that... is beyond their reach!
[3 comments]- The upkeep of a kitchen garden is a good therapy for the mind.
- [Saturday 6th May 2006]
Yeah, yeah, I know. My kitchen garden looks pretty pathetic. But wait! Big things have a small beginning...!
In the morning I went with Christelle and our son Brinsley to a (plant) nursery in order to get seedlings for my small kitchen garden. We live in a flat and so my stepparents offered me to do it in their garden. They alloted to me a plot of land of about 6 square meters. It isn't much (they're a bit stingy there), but enough to grow 12 tomato plants, 4 sweet pepper plants, a few onions and some herbs such as basil (3 varieties), thyme, chive and mint.
The seedlings I got are organic. And so is my kitchen garden. I produce my own compost from our kitchen refuse and I forbid myself to rely on insecticides or chemical fertilizers. I mainly resort to carnations which I plant in between. They are known to be good aphid repellents.
I believe gardening, the upkeep of a kitchen garden in particular, is a good therapy for the mind. I am deeply convinced that, in psychiatric hospitals, it would be a nice way to help patients getting better. For it allows you to "make up" with Mother Nature. It is very important. Also, it enables you to gain confidence as you grow things. And there is nothing healtier than the pride you get when you eat your own fruits, your own veggies.
Brinsley at the nursery.
[4 comments] - Sheri's pictures functional at last!
This morning I went to fetch Christelle and Brinsley at my stepparents' place. They came back last night from Corsica. My son gave me a big fat hug, and so did my beautiful wife...
Then I devoted a substantial part of the afternoon trying to work on the layout of my pictures page. I must confess I'm rather pleased with myself.
[4 comments]- Bukhara
I recently brought back from Belgium two oriental carpets which belonged to my grandfather. He got them during his posting in Egypt and Syria in the thirties. The large one is an old Bukhara of some great beauty, which however badly needed a wash! So I took a broom, a bucket, a hosepipe and I rubbed it meticulously with a savon de Marseille. Quite a job, I can tell you! I wouldn't say its colours look brighter now, but at least it no longer smells of camel...!
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