Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Saturday, 24 September 2016
An autumnal garden party
As I am typing this, the neighbours (two down our house, not the next door ones which I dislike) are having a party in the garden, to celebrate something or other, maybe a birthday. There are party lights, some kind of banners and a fire. They started early in the evening. I have to say, although it is a fairly rare sight, I kind of like the idea. My grandfather on my mother's side was very fond of family gathering outside in the garden, even way after summer was over. I have only very vague memories of them, but I do remember the cold autumn air and the smell of fire (or I think I remember it) and would love to live such thing again. My father used to think it was pure madness and wondered what was the point of partying outside the comfort of home. He went along anyway, but to this day he keeps talking about how odd the idea was. I do have an hypothesis: my grandfather might have been as fond of autumn as I am. In any case, I will one day follow his example and re-start this tradition here.