Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from April, 2024

Sunday Walk: on a drizzly April morning

 

Cursed Bread by Sophie Mackintosh: book review

Cursed Bread  by Sophie Mackintosh (2023) is set in a small village in France in 1951 with a population of about 4,000.    The novel is based upon a true event in the town in southern France called Point-Saint-Esprit – which means the Holy Spirit Bridge. On 15 August 1951, more than 250 people were affected by an outbreak of poisoning with psychotic symptoms. Subsequently, four people died and about 50 were institutionalized in an asylum. Many theories arose about the source of the poisoning, but none were proven.   This novel is loosely a fictional account of the poisoning event.    The narrator Elodie, of an unknown age, is the wife of a baker of an unknown name. He bakes the bread, and she sells it.    For conversation, she meets the women of the town at the local laundry to wash their clothes. There, she befriends Violet.   Violet, of an unknown age, is the wife of a wealthy ambassador of an unknown name. He conducts official business and she accompanies him wearing fine clothes. 

Babe and friends – from the farm to Paris

New poem “Metropolitan Epiphany” by POET IN RESIDENCE Tamar Zhghenti

  Tamar Zhghenti, the internationally recognized Georgian poet, and the   Poet in Residence  in my  Rainy Day Healing  website.   Georgian-born and now residing in England,  Tamar Zhghenti  is a poet, medical graduate, and English as a Second Language (ESL) teacher. Her latest poem in April 2024 is “Metropolitan Epiphany.”   Metropolitan Epiphany   It was a car park, not a park, But one night, I distinctly heard A lark singing in the dark.   The voice was sweet, its tune stark (Not many birds there to be stirred - It was a car park, not a park),   Thus, my ears could easily mark The sound of the little bird - It was the lark, out in the dark.   Filling my soul with a vivid spark, It felt as if I stood allured Before Eden, the biblical park.   Though the moon had hidden its arc, The sky was spoiled, like coffee with curd, I sensed light's triumph over dark.   Like the Dove to Noah's ark, It brought hope to the urban absurd. Yes, near a car park, not a park, A lark was singing in

Sunday Walk: around the garden with lots of stone steps