Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Ugo de Pezilla de Conflent

All is right in this corner of the world – I’m linked up with Ugo again, the village dog. He was trundling out of the village on his own walk which merged with mine. Leg cocked against the wall (Ugo not me), it was fun to see astonishment cross his face as he realized it was me. Then the barks and the jumping up and down, and off we trotted.

Today’s was a figure of eight loop – down to the river then up into the hills, disturbing the other dogs who are largely penned in these parts. It’s grand to be here in July, while the roadside flowers are abloom and the Pyrenean pesticide squad have not sent out there trucks to blast the poor things.

I’m managing the two hours a day of writing, to keep up the notion that this is no holiday, oh no, it’s a serious writing retreat. It does seem that way in fact – when walking or sitting or cleaning or gardening, sprigs of the next stage of the book show forth. My reading all spirals around the ongoing novel too – currently I’m having a swell time with Bear Heart’s The Wind is my Mother.

Dogs will make an appearance in later chapters. Whether Ugo’s traits make it into the book is yet to be seen. How do you describe the look of astonishment on a dog’s face?


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