I don’t like Gainsbourg, I’m sorry. But this song is a jewel! It doesn’t raise morale, certainly, but evokes happy times so well…

The photo is from November 2016. Tigri is (already) on the left of the bay leaf, Rouxy will be further on the left between the two hydrangeas, and Frimousse on the right of the picture near the hazel tree.

How I would like you to remember,

this song was yours,

it was your favorite, I think

Prévert1 and Cosma2 wrote it.

And always The Fallen Leaves3

recall my memories of you,

day after day

the fallen loves

are never done dying.

Of course I lose myself in other’s arms,

but their song is dull

and I grow ever more indifferent,

there is no helping it.

Since always The Fallen Leaves

recall my memories of you,

day after day

the fallen loves

are never done dying.

Is it ever possible to know

the begining or the end of indifference?

May fall pass, may winter come,

and may Prévert’s song

this song,

The Fallen Leaves,

vanish from my memories,

and that day

my fallen loves

will be done dying.

And that day,

my fallen loves

will be done dying.

The original in French can be read here: http://www.rouxy.frimousseblog.fr/?p=1225&lang=fr

In those times (*) there was snow, and Rouxy liked it… even though his stump couldn’t stand the frost.

(*) That was in 2006.

When I do my little stroll every morning I often see a ginger cat near this house. To take a photograph I have to take out my phone… Two days ago I was determined to do so but… a young person in beach clothes was on the garden bed… so no way. With #metoo I would probably be in trouble! But this morning only the red cat on top of the white furniture. RouXy’s mother lived a kilometre from that place. Is this cat a distant cousin of RouXy’s?

 

Last night.

He wants to get in. But Mum doesn’t want.

 

 

Appeared last night at Jump’s little Masters’house. This big kitten, reincarnation of dear RouXy? They quickly went to fetch the croquettes. But he couldn’t be allowed in, alas. He’s not greedy, he belongs to someone, sure.

 

 

Every time we see a ginger cat, guess who we think of! Frimousse’s Mistress was in Croatia a month ago. This is a Croatian cat then.

 

 

When RouXy died at the beginning of February 2017, Frimousse was in great shape – although he was nearly seventeen years old.

He very quickly noticed RouXy’s absence. He didn’t look for him. He kept on the sofas and beds where they used to stay. He was waiting, but he sure knew that RouXy wouldn’t come. He was becoming weaker and wearker. Without his RouXy, was life worth living?

Posted on March 15, just two years ago.