Tuesday’s weather was probably about as fine as it is possible to be in the UK. It was pleasantly warm (probably in the low to mid 70s) with a light, gentle breeze. The sky was clear and deep blue with just some high level streaky clouds and the sunshine was golden and plentiful. We celebrated with a barbeque of the “World’s Greatest Hamburgers”, sweet corn, potato salad as well as a mixed green salad fresh from Penelope’s garden all washed down with a very pleasant Bordeaux (a smooth and delicate taste of strawberries and plums) and finished off with a selection of those amazing ice creams – liquorice, fennel, strawberry, coconut and sour cream on this occasion. Just about as nice as it is possible to be.

It would have been nice if the weather through the rest of the week had steadily improved. Fine as this week has been, it’s not the case that it has improved through the week – rather, it has deteriorated slightly but it’s still been grand. It’s been warm and sunny but not that bright, clear sunshine that we had on Tuesday. Still, it’s been good enough for a bike ride or two, the occasional barbeque washed down with a bottle of (generally) French red wine (a bottle of Chilean merlot did sneak in there but I won’t tell if you don’t) and ample opportunities to recline in the hammock and/or wander around the estate admiring the flowers.

Speaking of Ms Playchute’s garden, a couple of photos might raise the tone somewhat. In general, it’s looking in splendid form even if the borders do look to be somewhat on the “wild” side this year. The salad and vegetable garden is thriving and we have just a wee bit more than we can manage ourselves, you’ll be surprised to learn.

I was reading on the Time web site that Edith Shain, who is widely believed to be the nurse on the receiving end of a kiss from an amorous sailor in Times Square in that iconic photograph taken by Alfred Eisenstaedt on VJ Day in 1945, recently passed away at the age of 91. You can read about it here and it got me to thinking about other, similarly iconic photographs of kisses; does their story have the same depth as that one in Times Square, I wonder?

Certainly Robert Doisneau's 1950 photograph, Le Baiser de l'Hotel de Ville, in which a young couple are locked in an embrace as all of Parisian life swirls around them, is similarly iconic. However, it was posed (which I think I had read somewhere but was confirmed on one web site I visited): “Among his most recognizable work is Le baiser de l'hôtel de ville (Kiss by the Hôtel de Ville), a photo of a couple kissing in the busy streets of Paris. The identity of the couple was a mystery until 1993, when Denise and Jean-Louis Lavergne took Doisneau to court for taking the picture without their knowledge. This action prompted Doisneau to reveal that he posed the shot in 1950 using actor/models Françoise Bornet and Jacques Carteaud. Françoise was given an original print as part of her payment. In April 2005 she sold the print for 155,000 € at an auction. Paris was one of the favorite photographic subjects of Doisneau.”

I also read that the Paris Tourist Board recently commissioned a short film by Yvan Attal promoting Paris as a tourist destination in which he takes the theme of Le Baiser and updates it for a 21st century audience. It’s on You Tube and you can see it here.

In short, it’s quite clear that kissing is a good thing and personally, I shall try to do more of it.

Finally, finally – a headline from the Minneapolis Star Tribune which should give our weather forecasters a bit of a hint as to how to be more accurate with their weather predictions:

“Our Summer Will Be Cooler . . . Unless It’s Not”

I tell you, you couldn’t make it up.

Love to you all,

Greg

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It was Sunday morning, and the preacher was very satisfied with the good turnout. He was especially pleased to see Leroy sitting in the front row. Leroy hadn't been to services in several years.

After his usual lengthy sermon, the preacher made his usual offer: "Anyone with 'special needs' who wants to be prayed over, please come forward to the front by the altar."

And Leroy leapt up to be first in line!

"Leroy, what do you want me to pray about for you?" the preacher asked.

Leroy replied, "Preacher, I need you to pray for help with my hearing."

The preacher certainly had experience with that! He put one finger of one hand in Leroy's ear, placed his other hand on top of Leroy's head, and then prayed and prayed and prayed. He prayed a "blue streak" for Leroy, and the whole congregation joined in with great enthusiasm.

After a few minutes, the preacher removed his hands, stood back and asked, "Leroy, how is your hearing now?"

"I don't know, preacher," Leroy answered. "My public defender sez it ain't 'til next week."

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This came from Sarah. I have no idea what it’s about.

A psychiatrist was conducting a group therapy session with four young mothers and their small children. "You all have obsessions," he observed.

To the first mother, Mary, he said, "You are obsessed with eating. You've even named your daughter Candy."

He turned to the second Mom, Ann: "Your obsession is with money. Again, it manifests itself in your child's name, Penny."

He turned to the third Mom, Joyce: "Your obsession is alcohol. This too shows itself in your child's name, Brandy."

At this point, the fourth mother, Kathy, quietly got up, took her little boy by the hand, and whispered, "Come on, Dick, this guy has no idea what he's talking about. Let's pick up Peter and Willy from school and go get dinner.”

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Did we have this one before? I seem to have a recollection but, since I can’t be sure . . .

A wife and her husband were having a dinner party for all the major status figures in Rome, Italy. The wife was very excited about this and wanted everything to be perfect. At the very last minute, she realized that she didn't have any snails for this dinner party, so she asked her husband to run down to the beach with the bucket she was handing him to gather some snails.

Very grudgingly he agreed. He took the bucket, walked out the door, down the steps, and out to the beach. As he was collecting the snails, he noticed a beautiful woman strolling alongside the water just a little further down the beach. He kept thinking to himself "Wouldn't it be great if she would even just come down and talk to me." He went back to gathering the snails. All of the sudden he looked up, and the beautiful woman was standing right over him. They got to talking, and she invited him back to her place.

They ended up spending the night together. At seven o'clock the next morning he woke up and exclaimed, "Oh no! My wife's dinner party!" He gathered all his clothes, put them on real fast, grabbed his bucket, and ran out the door. He ran down the beach all the way to his apartment. He ran up the stairs of his apartment. He was in such a hurry that when he got to the top of the stairs, he dropped the bucket of snails.

There were snails all down the stairs. The door opened just then, with his very angry wife standing in the doorway, wondering where he's been all this time. He looked at the snails all down the steps, then he looked at her, then back at the snails, and said, "Come on guys, we're almost there!"