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When Nancy Huston walked on to the scene at the Archives Régionales the other night, she looked like the young girl whose diary she was going to read to us. With her long hair and fringe and her slim body she looked anything but 60 (but apparently she...

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On Sunday mornings in my childhood we would have a boiled egg with a slice of rye bread, and my dad would have a tiny bottle of Jägermeister. My dad was a hunter, and when I was born, he had a hunting dog called "Plet" (Spot in English). I recall his...

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In Denmark we have no rivers. We have one word to describe the natural watercourses found in Denmark ("å"), and I suppose that the word "stream" would be the best translation. We do have a word to describe a river ("flod"), however, we do not have any...

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Lately I keep running into Pompon. Considering that he died in 1933 and was then forgotten for many years, it is actually rather surprising. François Pompon was born in Saulieu in 1855, he became an apprentice stone mason in Dijon at the age of 15 and...

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There are places that noone even in their wildest dreams would ever imagine existed. Places that you only read about in books like the Platform 9 3/4 from where the train for Hogwarts departs at King's Cross. Or secret houses where people attend parties...

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