Paris, October 3, 2012
Dear J and G
Well things seem a lot calmer now we are in Paris. I don’t know what it is but I think it is because we know where Sydney is, Thumper has not caused any rumpus today, and we’ve still not seen the banjo-playing frog.
Of more interest, however, is some research we did this morning into Sydney’s ancestors. It really is exciting. They feature in the Louvre. There is one painting that few people look at. It is directly opposite the Mona Lisa so only gets seen by the backs of people’s heads. This painting, though, is very interesting. In the top right-hand corner are three seagulls. Since no-one was looking, I was able to stand on a chair up close and sure enough one of the seagulls in the painting was Sydney’s great-great-great-great-great-great-and-many-more greats-grandfather, also named Sydney. I had been aware of a rumour for some years now that Sydney was connected to France and particularly to French aristocracy and it is for this reason that Sydney’s ancestor is included in this canvas. I think the painter was the early Italian master named Vermicelli Macaroni.
After I’d had a look, I put the chair back and suggested to the attendant that the painting with Grandpa Syd in it should be relocated to where the Mona Lisa is and the Mona Lisa put on the wall recently vacated by the painting with Grandpa Syd in it. This way we would ensure that Sydney’s rellies become famous throughout the world. The official said the painting with Grandpa Syd in it was too big. I said I had my apple cutting knife in my bag and I was happy to give it a trim to make it fit. Fortunately we managed to slip away before the gendarmes arrived. It’s a bit of a giveaway they are coming when they start their Klaxons some kilometres away. However, I doubt that they will change the location of the paintings, so remember, if you are ever looking at the Mona Lisa, do a one-eighty, look up in the right-hand corner, and there you will see Grandpa Syd.
Now. For something even more exciting, though perhaps a little gruesome. There is a sculpture in the Louvre of Grandpa Syd’s great-great-great-great-great-great-and-many-more greats-grandfather coming to a sticky end at the hands of a rather nasty little sniver. In short, he was throttled (bird not boy), and there was the sculpture to prove it. Remember, in those days, they didn’t have cameras. Rumour has it that this Great Grandpa Syd was a bit on the dodgy side. He spent much of his life impersonating ducks so that small children would feed him. Apparently he found this a much easier way of life than keeping an eye on the dump as all good seagulls should do.
On the way back to our apartment, we walked through the Tuileries gardens and past the round pond. The weather had turned a bit bleak and windy. There were only a few ducks on the pond and even these were hove to because of the cold breeze. Jan and I made it back to the apartment before it started to rain in Ernest (hmm, not sure what Ernest did to deserve all that rain).
Pop
© Copyright Lewis Rivers, 2012
France 2012 