Well,  yesterday with KA canoeing along the Dordogne I was reminded of an event from our years in the Perigord.   We’d bought a house,  a little house that we called ‘Le Tournesol’  on the Rue du Calvaire in Le Bugue.   We’d loved the little cottage,  I’ll write about it another time.   Staying there until our darling Coco was born and then leaving to another place in St Cirq –  we’d managed to sell Le Tournesol to my sister and brother in law who had a daughter,  KA.   There was a cast iron bath with lion’s feet in the house that we had stolen from a unoccupied house in the village a few years before.   KA reminded me (as an element in an evidently ‘funny’  family story that I’d forgotten)  that when Melissa,  Mark and KA had come to take possession of the house –  the bath was gone.   We’d taken it up to our new house.   God this story has affected me.   It carries with it all the bitter sweet tastes of my time in the Dordogne.   Many rich and in some ways noble memories but such a sense of shame at many of them.   H and I were not,  I am afraid to say,  very mature nor considerate in our behaviour towards other people.   This is not a ‘culpa mea’  but quite simply shameful to recall.   Also confusing to think that I behaved in such a manner.   I’ll write it out in longer form –  best to recall the truth –  even bitter –  might let something else emerge.   

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