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No future

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This is called a dead end!

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For the keyhole ...

Monein Church (Pyrenees-Atlantiques) hides under his enormous slate roof a treasure: a framework of the XIV th century, and to access the staircase of the tower.

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Snow me the grace to fall on Thursday morning, one morning available to the picture of this month!
few more photos in my archives

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Passage required to reach the stairs ... At the optometrist

Photo taken from atop a castle tower.

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Road to the 7th heaven

Promise of a blue sky: a few clouds but no rain announced. I do not hesitate a moment to climb 4-4 in the vortex of this staircase to the 7th heaven ...

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At Besancon, there is a circuit to go to visit the courtyards, and I have not yet done. I know this because there are stairs leading to my optometrist. And

home a staircase refuge.

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have a vantage point outside the French feminist mafia

is essential before undertaking anything.

First and foremost, it is necessary to have isolated, exposed, this major problem in France, the existence of a feminist mafia killer family, who hate righteousness.

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Balthazar is no coincidence!

is Jack, the pirate everyone knows, the one who tells stories well ... naughty? with the words removed, who plays the verb and tricorn as his pen and brush since Jack is true ... is ... no, you not know?


short, it's Jack who wrote this in his blog. (Come home and Cortisone Zette).
You read, you raise eyebrows, you smile, and then you click because it's also nice to discover that you do not know.

New: Balthaz Blogs @ r!

is the speech of Cortisone , read:

"There are Caesars , then Oscars, and Balthaz @ rs ...
Right now, on TV or the Internet, the festival awards and a variety.
When you do not reward blogs wrongly or rightly, are awarded the best or worst actors, actresses, movies, albums, singers or other directors. In
do you want the Caesars, here's the Oscars.
If you do not have the NRJ Music Awards, worry, you'll have the Victoire de la Musique.
And if you do not received a Nanard, wait, you'll take a Razzie.
How it did not you been voted best Golden Blog Award ? Do not panic, you're voted best blog in IT when you do not forget that you were enrolled in Cosmo .
Finally, all that to say that large scale, it loses a bit and we forget to ask yourself what you REALLY love.
is why one night between us, on Blogitexpress , we said we We could also launch small-scale, let's say stool in our little contest intimate blogs we love. History
say you love reading blogs, which was fun to participate, or that one would like to introduce to others.
Just like that, for fun, between us, without a jury, without a battle for votes.
for fun, is not it my dear Herbert.
And we said we could not, it does.
We, the conditional is not our preferred time. So with
MHF , Orfeenix , or Cortisone. A2F was developed yesterday Balthaz @ rs.
idea?
Simple. Each offers
2 favorite blogs among 5 categories proposed: *
company (info, news, politics or general)
* ; culture (music, art, design ...) *
literature (books, comics, blogs of writers)
* photo
* various (everything else)
selection lasts 15 days, as of this Monday, February 28 until Monday, March 14 .
After stakes, the nominees will then be offered to vote, to designate the blog that you prefer in each category.
5 Balthaz @ rs will then be awarded.

Participate is even simpler:
* You copy and paste this post at the end mentioning the 2 blogs that you like in each category and you see the url your ticket in the comments at Cortisone , between February 28 and March 14.
* On 15 March a new ticket will be issued with a poll for each category, which you make your vote, to award 5 Balthaz @ rs!


(Article written by Zette )

And here are my votes (those of Jack the Pirate)
* Company: Mediatik ; Life and Let Love
* Culture: Marieaunet and Elisabelleauboisdormant
* Literature: Cortisone and ; Sort-Celery
* Photo: A day life and Reflects
* Miscellaneous: (Biography) Victoria and Nanou

My VOTAMOI:

• Society: Sharing my opinion Islet and Chriss
• Culture: Salt and Pepper and Turtle Light
• Literature: The Republic of Books and Butterfly
• Photo: Bil Murch and David Grimber t
• Miscellaneous: La Tartine gourmande (images too) and Joann Sfar (because I love chatting Rabbi).

I said something, exercise very difficult to make choices.

I'm limited as far as possible in my blog banner. And yet I'm not talking about those who do not write, etc. who have disappeared ...

And sometimes yes, everything is mixed ...

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Losing foot

Everything was happening in France as if I was losing more and more walking with my family, the mother of my children trying to completely eliminate me - what is already the case in practice, that she wants to legalize - which also confirms that it has made immigration fraud by sentimental.

Now we have a saying "equally good eye."

I could only see the decline of my vision and my refusal to wear glasses ...

Now here in the Philippines, perhaps because I found love (and also change of status from peasant to that of the sower that I try to do ), at some point, I spontaneously took the glasses to look at the screen that my companion had filled photo beautiful girls. And since, I agree to wear ... It's as if I began to take hold ...

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Last Sunday of the month.

This morning, open your eyes and see blue.

Close to an hour indecent but so sweet ... (9.30, it could have been better ? worse!)

Prepare a picnic for the beach under the sun, and in fact is caught by the wind and rain.

get revenge by a nap.

Admiring his fillegrande cakes (I have nothing, nothing, nothing, not helped, it is very strong).

Nightlife, see one of the many mimosas, which provide shade in the damn sun still playing hide and seek, and remember Madeira.

Deciding to believe that the 3D glasses is really ugly sexy and go see a cockerel to the voice Chiraqi with children.

think that ultimately it was a good Sunday.

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Civil servants should be paid less ...

Read post Wisconsin, Egypt, France, same struggle ... penned by Charles Gave

.

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The agreement of the two brains ...

civilizational basis, meeting the improbable ... These two brains
illustrated by Mercedes-Benz:

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How do development in advance when one is already cut off from its roots? Please comment

is the basic principle of French higher education: cut the haze of his roots, even humiliating for him that he begins a new life, white page.

revolutionary no!

Nothing therefore expect the EdNat ...

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Put to death in winter.

The winter is long.

Even if shorter in some places and in others, the winter is long.

I did not want to, but then not at all, to go.

Pretending again.

But the joy of children.

It was mid-gray, Mid-blue. As if winter was the resistance.

It was mild, with occasional gusts of cold, when a cloud decided to win a battle.

And then I met some friends, including one that I did not recognize, if it did these were not very recognizable blue eyes! A home-made costume, or one is an artist or you do not, Star Wars. You see, up there ...

This day thou realize that everyone would love that winter gives up.

You see the beautiful mimosa superb throughout, the forsythia that link, the grass does not stop to grow, sprouting buds .. . you'd see some better, if the sun shone a whole new light. This comes after the rain.

There was much fanfare. There were tanks.

But as a false good humor too. Lassitude.

But

.

But I saw lots of daisies in a black wig, smiles that I am not here to be named, you see, pink, blue, yellow, a handsome cowboy, a lot of break-in of these, and there.

I painted flowers on the cheeks of my daughter.

While waiting to see these flowers in my winter garden, all green.

The origins of Carnival are there: a mixture of Christianity and pagan celebration, it marks both the end of the winter with the revival of the Year (Before Caesar it was the lunar calendar, Caesar introduced the Julian calendar (go to Julius Caesar that which is) that start the year in March (that's why OCTO (eight) number is the eighth month that the calendar here) is the Church in 532 AD (not for Jules the coup) who decides to start from January 1 this year.)

short.

So late winter and enter Lent, a period of fasting which is the fortieth day Easter (forty days because forty nights of fasting before handing Moses the Tablets of the Law). Before fasting feasting and revelry are made, where the carnival.

History cope.

There are many countries where the carnival is more representative here. Venice, Rio ... you forget who you are, you hide, you become someone else.

Next year maybe I will someone else ...

Bonhomme winter burned alive the next!

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's claim to development

If computer, you can easily make that claim, development of human community, it is quite another thing.
Some think they participate in development by paying a little more expensive services and products due to their relatively high purchasing power than the poor country where they are. This is in my opinion a complacency that free is not worth a kopek. My feeling, to use policies is that they do while contributing to inflation, to eventually make life more difficult for the poor. This attitude
bit even be among the locals who have new money coming ... It
Keynes daily Keynes sprinkle a little liquidity, not earned money distorts the marketplace.

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inconvenient

It must be able to have energy for this energy and then terminate if you can not correct the error itself.
If you are from such poor living has always been a poor region. Make a comment that requires correction can only lead to additional stress because you will not have the means to correction.
If you are able to accept additional stress, the observation will power within you to emerge ... But when every day is a stress that it would be able to eat ...

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Refuse To learn

When one really knows, this leads us to make decisions that will change our lives. And our nature
homebody does not necessarily leads us to this. It is therefore preferred not to know that France is not a rule of law, Justice that his family is more than pathetic, a feminist mafia took control ... And therefore not to read info that inform us differently, really starting to inform us rather than being propaganda.

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Autodialogue. Here

Sometimes we feel stuck.
Yet you have pain anywhere , will tell you she said.
Yes, but it's a little something in the air that makes you stranded.
What? it's you that is insurmountable? application does.
Yes, there's that. Fail to see farther.
And another little thing that you left there, this little laughing thing, now the fever of a pain ear, which sticks to you, while you find that you already glues you too.
Still sick? s ourcille she said.
Yes. Yet. They say that from six years, it's better. That's true. It has not yet 6 years, this explains it.
Well, if there is it's wrong, what are you complaining about? "She scolds .
I do not know. Maybe this dishwasher broken dishwasher with three days in, it is also impossible?
Do not tell anything! She fumed .
Ben who? I do not want to dishes, not the place to dry I'll have to wipe it. Not like I say.
Once this is done, it will no longer make , she explains.
Yes. But must also write. I'm late. I tried at least three times, it does not come, or the blah, you see the crap, so I know how, but I'm tired. Did you read that
, she sulks.
Nothing to read. Read everything I had on hand.
Tell us then, "she suggests.
First, I finished all Camilla Läckberg on the market. I confirm my impression is the best in better, richer, more elaborate, and then I find myself in common with Erica, then obviously, I'm attached. The problem is that he'll have to wait.
Then I read a book from the library, that I must go down tomorrow, moreover, "Syngué Sabour, Pierre patience" by Atiq Rahimi. is the kind of book I do not want to go. It reads quickly, yet it would read. It's a blast, and a cry. Modeled on the breath of a man who is not clear if he lives. His wife speaks to the rhythm of the breath and her rosary beads, and speak, she said, she said, she is engaged, and it is beautiful. We want to know the end of the story, we want to know if the man meant, we suffer with his wife, is expected. I always want to go fast to know the end, but this book reads slowly, finally, it must taste. It is a book that says more than what is written.
Well then, it is not so bad! exasperated she said.
Yes, but out of there, I'm worthless, I get nowhere. Mired. I'm still waiting. As if we needed something that triggers. I have not found the switch outside of a few lights full of air currents.
You tell anyone i quo, "she sighs.
Yes, I'd better shut up.
T'es con! z'yeux to heaven she said.
Yeah.

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Here.

Brittany is full of surprises. You never know in advance you reserve it. Sometimes, the certainty of a gray day, with a low ceiling, an insidious drizzle, a tremor of your skin as you would like to stay snuggled under the duvet. And

.

And you can feel the smell of coffee and the toast, or even the laughter of a child, and even cries.

A bit forced, smell, hunger, desire to laugh too, you know that the day began well before the sun has risen.

The shutters are down, the sky still silent, you still do not know, it only remains for you to hope. You expect nothing, because you know. You know you can not change anything.

Brittany is not a country monotonous, no, that you can be sure.

Like when at a bend in the countryside and you discover a blue horizon, the ocean.

The landscape of the time plays with you every moment.

This morning, you're wearing a windbreaker, this afternoon sunglasses, tonight a duffle coat. Do not ask me what will be the moment comes, I do not know.

That is also why I do not know what color are your eyes. Green or blue? it depends on the sky, depending on the sun.

in doubt, take it all. You who come here. I hope you never have trod this ground or the air smelled Breton. Because I envy you. I'll almost jealous of all these discoveries that you do.

Open your eyes. That's my only reference.

Make yourself humble, here it is not you the king.

Let you take.

Look. A thousand times I

come to the same place, a thousand times it's a different landscape. One cloud is enough to fill a united sky, a gust of wind is enough to move the leaves of a tree, a bird is enough to tell you that spring is in a short time.

Here is Brittany.

Wherever you go in the world, you will find a bit of that heaven, some of this land. While there, already, the desert sand, tropical green.

It's like a gift, sent to look further, otherwise, here or there.

But still, I feel at home .

Here.

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Zotes Having it start to cook .. .

And then, there, could not resist ...

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Sailing and me and me and me ...

the impossible is zero held and which desires can.
These are your comments, So 'to me again and Dana think of this creed that I applied myself one day in the summer of 1990.
I discovered in passing that I can have a text in mind, thinking, pre-writing, while ironing. Above the blue sheets, I read the words. It does not hit the street, if we knew that when I come to think of ironing, I would be lost.

One day, my father, thou sacred, said, "but if, of course, you will make the sail, you have it in my blood since your ancestors were sailors.
I laughed at him face (or I gave him head?) it would need a bit more and I really do not care that statement made on the day they (my parents) decided that I would be sailing instructor.
remember one simple fact: in all and for all, I had two weeks (one chabok, not Shadocks, but I do not even know how it is written, and another caravel) sailing this day So they committed the irreparable, register at Moulin-Mer.
Father told me then, that since, as needed. I remind
, revenge is a dish best served cold, even in this case, frozen, said that Father was not long before, almost sunk by dinghy to the beach Bénodet bringing shame to his life to his teenage son, as we almost called the Abeille Flandre ... (Learn the same time, a vacuum-lives' did lead to ground).
As I have fun.
So one morning, we landed the beautiful marine (ten pounds heavier than now, and even muscle) , since in the blood it has, sailing center, where my faith, she did not recognize any of the boats who was there.
Instead, she signed off from his heart to meet the man who would become his life, the only unique, even now that the heart continued to beat after all. That great lout
lanky and talkative as little as now, some things do not change, was (is) handsome as a god, tan, chocolate and eyes the color of the water to the point that I took 6 years for me to drown before he rescued the damsel in distress. (Yes, sometimes, I mix the I and the you is when I'm doing).
short.
Because in my blood beat the waves of the Atlantic and Mediterranean, and why not the Indian Ocean, it would be easy, is not it, to get that diploma called B1D1, instructor Sailing, it does, right?
We were 11, including 9 males. In this age, they say male, because it is mainly expressed.
Day:
one that had it in the blood is left with a laser rig. A laser is something sharp and quite flat with a sail, great, great, who donned like a sock on a pole high, very high, and then must bring the said mast and place it in the hole adequate to the tip of the laser.
Ben there, you see, it took me four days to do it alone. The technique, weight, everything.
Day again: Once a male
mocking and scornful, helped the girl to rig the boat, we put the boat in the water.
In theory, you are spinning right out to sea.
Except that one that's in the blood, do not know find the wind, steering, finally, BA.Ba.
Imagine the situation.
All lasers are already far out of the bay. Except one.
And all around the cove, there are children, teenagers, all groups of sails, the Optimist to the Caravelle, the Chabok to the team.
The girl, in his boat to sail fasseyante, cheeks red and boiling tears, she only sees those little orange dots (life jackets) who watch it, laughing.
It ended up being towed at sea
"one who" has suffered humiliation as not often. It has gnawed at the bit. She slapped his fist. She had a rough time for two weeks. She hated her parents who did not want her going home.
theory side, it was all good, the exam with flying colors.
But it was necessary to do a sailing course intensive sport as they say. Three weeks with Ve, the people said Sanquer and without reproach.
Vee, was the friend of hommedemavie. A big bear bleeding heart. A chest décoiffer Bigoudènes the two centuries back, he had to learn to speak on a boat in a storm.
short. Sailing
intensive. 9H/17H in water. On the water. At the water.
Learning to desalinate and ressaler especially. Bruises on her arms to draw the planet earth from the sky.
Learn to master.
Learn to feel.
One day there was no wind. It's not good when it is "becalmed". The sea is a mirror and the boat is not moving. Unless you help a little.
I remember going up to the front of the laser, standing, holding the pole with both hands, making the hull sway from left to right, quickly, strongly, and I realized I was no longer afraid . I knew, finally, to sail. There was a click that day. I felt strong, even if it was fake, it was good.

So yes, the impossible ... and want is power.
Will I remember.

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spring cleaning.

Enough, says the winter!
I nod.
Sometimes I recently spent several hours a day without going to read blogs, or even open the pretty apple.
In three days I read all three volumes of Camilla Läckberg in relative silence as the children, and most total today is just none of the children, since, fingers crossed, more none are sick.
The trilogy is the last book I prefer, as if Camilla Läckberg had acquired additional maturity is more consistent than the previous two, although I have eaten the same way. Then I started
" Life is short and endless desire " I borrowed because of the title. For the moment I'm still wondering where Patrick Lapeyre wants to take us, it is mainly the plot that keeps me going. While
when I read "The taste Apple Seed" is the style and atmosphere that I loved. Beautiful book. That addresses a lot of deep topics of a sensitive manner, a novel that I would describe as close to nature, it is everywhere in the book. The author, Katharina Hagena raises several layers of memories of women and then forgetting how to live with this oversight, and finally, the memory and what he does in the future. That
.
I see the sky ablaze in the morning, and I miss five minutes of the best photos in the world because my schedule, or rather because of, not consistent with that of the sun.
write cover letters and glass table is covered with crumpled paper. And I realize that my handwriting is terrible but Who cares right?
Because one day, you feel a sort of call that tells you, go, dark, write, do things, ceases to see your navel, it does not get bigger than you.

2011, the year the President's speech are as difficult to listen than swallowing the brains of sheep: (Prevention is above all law enforcement, I can not remember the exact words but he did say that prevention was through fear of punishment is not the carrot but the stick, oh yeah, he also spoke of "complicity" of parents, but of course. And then the "Health is free in France" ptdr, PE4 :-) disgusted).
I held 7 minutes, I find it remarkable how many stupid things we can say in 7 minutes.

2011, the year when I change my job.
2011, new life?
(and 2012, a new president?).

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Expose.

There. The new. I will outline.
What then will you tell me?
Neither my words or my garden, even if the spring will be all pretty full, or my nose or my cakes.

We were asked: How many gates?
Arh, que grills, finally, what sizes? how you doing?
We said: where? That I
knew, because you see, I like the mixture of genres, so it will be in the chapel on the other side of my house, the chapel of St. John. I do not know yet who will be with me ...

I know I will explain in the chapel of St. John, you know, I like him even though I've never set foot, is not often open, but it is just pretty, she part of my landscape, I see it as a reliable marker of time passing and things that last.
The problem of light is set too, a nice man he must ready.

remains one problem.
What am I going to be pictures? A

Locoal-Mendon, Therefore, a Spring Artists (amateur and confirmed my guess category) 2 and the April 3, 2011.
Roaming.
The community hall and three chapels.
Paintings, sculptures, comic book, pottery, mobiles, photographs, mosaics, and others I've doubtless forgotten.
They were a little surprised at the city hall I think, to see so many people come to his call for "hidden talents" of the town. It was the second meeting last night, it becomes concrete.

I have pictures Stock of course, but I want to do to express.
I do not know what theme, because I think I took pictures as they come, unprepared.
Without doubt it will be fine as my only "job" is to go walking in the Natour, to photograph it outside, and then we'll see what comes out?
There's also food photography, but now it takes a little more investment ...
So when I told the man that I must get up early to go take pictures of fog, he said, counting on me already very happy with the idea to push me out of bed!

In fact, I agree on a dangerous road (and pretentious?), do not you think?

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Heaven!

In which room she exclaimed: "Heaven, my husband!"?

short. Tonight the sky was so beautiful here, some pictures. I did not even my camera with me, but it is the fault of winter. Loss of reflexes, numbness of the brain.

( this morning)

the morning he dyed pastel water that reflects this. The fog sometimes gives him a timid, to make her blush atmosphere.
By day, he must still fight with some fluffy clouds, the wind from those bullies, pushing them above the rooftops as a cavalry behind.
And in the evening.
the evening, he explodes with what the day did not let him, he gets four thousand, color brush straight, sharp, in lines of white deftly traces the journey from East to West. The same direction always
Soon, the long morning walks, or those of the evening when the night is late, finally.
But even the dark night, makes me see the bright stars: Orion the pantheon, which makes me the eye as soon as I found, faithful.

(tonight)

And then the water. This country
between land and sea that is now mine, flush all over, as if the earth was getting out sponge oceans are below. Wherever I go, the water is there, present, dangerous or beautiful, or deep puddle or pond calm turbulent ocean.
A look at the water, you know the weather. She turns from gray to black, blue to emerald, it is smooth as crystal or curled like a scarf knitted.
My barometer is a short walk from my house.
I'll walk often in the morning, that is the view of the sky that tells me it's time, or just want to loose my mind, walking.
Tonight, look.
There was this beautiful sky, and water as a mirror, the colors and the air I breathe as if you robbed me of a weight.

(tonight too)

is my home.

It is now.