"Lozère" sounds like a fake French word for "loser." Like "tar-zhay" for Target stores. And why do I still remember the first time I heard "tar-zhay" like that? (Sitting around a conference table, the side closest to the door, first or second day on the job as a canvasser for Texans United, a group that was trying to prevent a utility rate hike, having one of those "great chemistry" conversations with a guy who quit the next day.)
According to Pliny, Lozère cheese is nice. But, despite years of nodding at his cited wisdom, I'm not really sure: who was Pliny?
Apparently, he was
- "the Elder" (his nephew, a similar person, was "the Younger")
- Roman
- a naturalist / natural philosopher (or scientist about flora and fauna and such)
- one of those ancient guys who wrote volumes of definitive works
- in his thirties
- then later, a 160 volume encyclopedia
- so, someone who makes me feel like a bit like a lozère in comparison
This card, with its rubby lineny surface, was sent to Mr. and Mrs. D. F. O. Danger in The Old Rectory in Cornworthy, Totnes, Devon.
(Hmm. A Hugo Cornworthy is a character in Agatha Christie's The Adventures of the Christmas Pudding. And she was from Devon. Hm.)
Postmarked in France on the 25th of July 1989 and dated the day before, which was a Monday.
"We are here at La Bastile 1024 M in the heart of the Cevennes traveling by car and foot over some of the country where R. L. Stevenson walked in 1878. It is an attractive region and still relatively unspoilt. We move on to the Riviera then back via the Haute Savoie. Love from all 4. Trevor."
But: Why is there a postmark on the front, from Devon, nine days later?
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