Comments on: interrogatoire

By: Welsh Cake

Welsh Cake — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 17:40:21 +0000

Hywel Mallet. Is that pronounced using the Welsh double LL? Saying your name like that makes me giggle…

By: heather

heather — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 17:00:50 +0000

this story brings back memories of living in Paris! the French and the staircase photo too. Heather

By: ellie

ellie — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 16:01:06 +0000

No nosey neighbours to waylay me! Thank goodness! Though I suppose there is a charm ….. probably not a good idea to ask her to sit for the Tadpole though. She could seriously creep out a little kid! x, ellie

By: FSolomon

FSolomon — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 14:49:58 +0000

I have never been to Paris–except in both my heart and head. I love the way that you present it for me. You blog is luscious.

The avoiding neighbors thing must then be a worldwide epidemic, oui?

By: Nikki

Nikki — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 14:43:55 +0000

“Bizarre Love Triangle” – as in the New Order Song? Any particular significance or merely the song that happened to be playing as the boat started to list?

By: diane

diane — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 14:43:04 +0000

Malheureusement pour vous , vous venez de rencontrer la concierge de l’immeuble! Faire tres attention……. Gentille mais rapporteuse.
Et biensur elle essayera de vous faire rencontrer toute sa famille!!!!!!!!!!! une vraie smala!
gibpowify

By: Adam

Adam — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 14:16:38 +0000

When I lived in Boston, I had a neighbor who was not only nosy, but delusional. He was a large fellow, about 6’3″ tall, very efféminé, lived right next door to us with his boyfriend, and was prone to violent tendencies. He was always very nice to me and the girl with whom I was living at the time. But the fact was, he was in the latter stages of HIV/AIDS and likely suffered AIDS related demensia.

He would constantly stop us in the hallway and tell us how he was the Archangel Michael and his boyfriend was Gabriel. Just about every day, I had to hear about his visions, and what God said to him that day as he was sitting in his living room listening to his stereo and drinking vodka.

The conversation was usually pleasant enough, but on occasion he would get very passionate about his stories and become quite agitated and animated. It could be frightening at times. We got really good at slipping into our apartment quietly so as to avoid him, but that was usually to no avail, as he would simply ring our buzzer and knock on our door. We used to answer, but soon realized the stupidity of such action. So we eventually stopped answering, opting to hunker in the living room, not daring to move a muscle, while debating in whispers about whether we should answer the door, or slip out the back door and go to a bar until the heat is off.

We were prisoners in our own homes.

By: Flighty

Flighty — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 13:13:37 +0000

Hywel Mallet, you’re the only one who copped onto the “thirtysomething” male.
we could be heading for a stair-hopping, breath-catching romance.
Or he might be gay (choice of tartan, see Alexander McQueen)

By: Banana

Banana — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 13:12:42 +0000

I assume you nosey neighbour is going to be a regular feature on your blog.

By: Tim

Tim — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 12:36:18 +0000

Just looked in for the first time after your stardom on Radio 4 this morning.

Thank you for sharing a slice of your life in such an eloquent of stylish manner. I shall be returning…

As to “La Vieille Dame” why don’t you write your salient family details on the back of a photo of you and yours and next time you see her give it to her as a little present – it might make some of it stick?