Yup, it’s a way to use old bread instead of letting it go to waste.

Mostly pear and cherry, with some plum and one walnut.

Nothing really, for now, we’re just high enough that spring comes late. But the raspberries are doing amazing, the apple trees looks like clouds, my kid has been weeding and cleaning the huge strawberry patches, the wild strawberries are everywhere, the baby fruit trees are growing. It’s gonna be lovely!

French here: it works. Miam.

Obviously, 2 is really bad. 5 is nice.

Honestly, when I remember it, I can hear the fabric of reality tearing.

I was 16, on a road-trip in the US with my dad and my sister. We’re French. First time in the US. Get to NYC after a month. That was before Internet existed: we had booked a room in the Central Park YMCA by mail. Reception goes: “Yes, you’re in the book. LastName, 2 people, today through next Saturday.”
“Err, no, sorry, the dates are right but there are 3 of us.”
“Oh, we must have written it down wrong, no problem, we’ll give you a bigger room.” We get to our room. 5 minutes later there’s a knock on the door. My sister opens it. My dad’s jaw clatters on the lino floor. It was his estranged dad and very much estranged step-mother. He hadn’t been in touch for 20 years; I had met them once when I was 3; my sister, never. They had booked a room under the same LastName (duh), for the same 6 nights, in the same hostel, for their first visit to the US.
We did spend some time with them in NYC, but it didn’t lead to any happily-ever-after, family-healing breakthrough, because they were jerks or, to be honest, monsters.

I like the way you think.

It’s a wine vine, I think.

Now you must tell me about the first three seasons of FRIENDS. (Please?)

I have one. It’s awesome. But don’t do it if you’re not absolutely sure you want it.