On the edge

Channeling Chamaeleo with a pigeon teetering on the edge of the fountain.

The pigeons live in the clocktower, but at this time of year the square outside our door is in a disgusting state thanks to hundreds of starlings roosting in the triffid. Care is required in choosing where to park your car. Not sure this justifies the shotgun blast I heard outside the window just after going to bed last night though. I was somewhat concerned as Mystère had gone out. But he's no fool -- he'd obviously dashed smartly home, and I found him halfway up the stairs looking alarmed. He came and hid in the bedroom and there were no more deflagrations.

French book group this evening. We talked about La Maladroite, a book about child abuse based on a real case. Most of us were nervous about reading it, but in fact the author's approach made it bearable. Unsurprisingly though, the discussion slipped swiftly into child abuse cases people had encountered in their professional lives.

There were 15 of us, which I think is too many. However, I managed the coup of getting the book I am currently reading (bought in Toulouse on Saturday) chosen for our next meeting! It's no masterpiece, but it's a short and entertaining read. I don't often get to choose the book, so I was chuffed. Annoyingly, the French people in the group often choose English or American books in translation -- that's not what I joined for!

Meanwhile.