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It is a warm day in the South West of France.  In fact, it is verging on being too warm a day.  I have just finished the cutting on the third layer of the Spaghetti, and breeze from the window is blowing the dust around the studio, while barely justifying itself by cooling the room….  I have limited space, but work primarily in the loft.  It is a hot room in summer and a stuffy room in winter, but it is large enough to manage most of the paintings.

The loft (as is much of the house) is a rather Heath Robinson affair.  I have a series of small workmans tables and the wooden table I managed to snaffle of my wife which she had been using for sewing.  I did promise to return it to her, but funds being as they are she is not pushing me as the return of the table is likely to incur another financial investment at the local BricoMarché …

I am writing this while intermittently coughing up my lungs after removing the sawdust from the studio floor – a really horrible task, required to keep my sanity, but at the risk of my lungs …. careless actions – I must remember to wear the mask next time!

The town I am in has just entered their hibernation period, the summer is more slightly active, however, the winter is close to dead.  The advantage to this is that I can concentrate on work without distractions.  The disadvantage is that I start talking to the flying ants who are trying to prolong their life by sucking my blood – a not to normal existence for most people.  I suppose that the lack of two way conversation means that I do not have to worry about the language barrier which exists between myself and most of the residents of this village.

This is my first blog post, and I am not sure if it best to leave this in drafts and potentially never get around to posting it, or to hit the publish button now and come back and do multiple edits?

Since this is one of the few days when my kids do not come home for lunch I think I shall hit the launch button and see if a quiet lunch, when I actually get to think in peace, leaves me regretting the action.