As I write, we have just returned form a spell in the French countryside. Plenty of the usual wine, duck, and early morning visits to the bakery. What struck me this time was the absolute accuracy that the French language affords descriptions. Expressions that require sentences to blunder through in English, l’espirit d’escalier – ‘the thought that strikes you after you have left the room’, come d’habitude – ‘as is my normal way’ and the best one yet, for true meaning nut shelled, – égoportrait – the selfie – explained in an efficient slam, ‘a portrait that massages your ego’. So all told, when you say it in French it seems to sound and feel much better. Now, back to the safest place I know, under my Simple Things throw.. Vive!