Fingers Of The Hero

Yesterday evening I watched a DVD of The Interpreter, Sydney Pollack’s gripping, tender, sensitive, and spell-binding thriller starring Nicole Kidman and Sean Penn.  The two principal characters are played magnificently by two of the best modern thespians.  I use ‘thespians’ because the word has no gender.  (I don’t know what Ms Kidman would prefer to be termed, but Sheila Hancock has asserted that she is an actress and proud of it.) The protagonists are depicted in much greater depth than often in the genre, and these two have the range to do it justice.

I won’t reveal the story for anyone who may wish to watch the film.  Suffice it to say that it hinges on Kidman, as a UN interpreter, overhearing an assassination plot and Penn’s efforts to prevent it.  For my money the male lead is one of the greats.

The credits tell us the production was made ‘with the help of ‘The Interpreter’ by Suzanne Glass.

Fingers of the heroWhen the team arrived this morning, Benoit had two fingers heavily bandaged.  In response to my question, he uncomplainingly showed me small blisters on others and explained that he had earned them grappling with the bathroom piping.   This man had removed the side panel and worked at arms’ length underneath the plug hole.  I said I just had to photograph ‘the fingers of the hero’.

After the arrival of Renov Conseil 24 (the name of the company), I walked the La Briaude loop.Landscape near La Briaude  A panting, but otherwise silent, black labrador expended its energy attempting to clear its fence for a cuddle.  It has always tracked me along the fence, but has seldom displayed such eager amorousness.

A field was being ploughed.  Along many of the verges, escapee cornflowers from this and others cropped up everywhere.  Except ouLeaping labradortside the house of the gardener I had seen on 17th May.  He has beautified the roadside with a fine array of flowers.  On his own land he has stacked up logs for the winter.PloughingFlowers on vergeLogs

BeetleAn unseen goat bleated in the distance.  Closer to foot an African masked beetle evaded my steps.

Lunch at Le Code Bar consisted of a splendid soup containing vegetables, beans, and noodles; a crisp cheese and bacon quiche; a luscious layered lasagna; and a tempting pear tart with chocolate sauce.  As I finished Benoit and Sandra came in for a drink and told me that all the joints under the bath had needed replacing.  Fortunately there were no more blisters.  Benoit bought me a coffee.

Published by derrickjknight

I am a septuagenarian enjoying rambling physically and photographing what I see, and rambling in my head as memories are triggered. I also ramble through a lifetime's photographs

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