Clay – Page 12 – Clay Russell

Food really gets me going. I enjoy eating it, cooking it, planning ways I will cook it, shopping for things I need to…

Fitou is halfway between two cities. To the south there’s Perpignan, about which I’ve written. Close to the Spanish border, one sees signs…

Right now I am sitting in a bar. Sitting in a bar could mean many things, of course. I have occupied bars in…

I stepped out onto the terrace last weekend and noticed two bees engaging in some coital flitting-about. Initially I thought it was the…

Last year I felt obliged to share at least one criticism of the French, considering how much I wax lyrical about them and…

When I left my village last spring the earth was just waking up and bursting from its winter shell. Shoots of bright green…

I love animals. Kitties, puppies — those are easy. Cows and pigs? Sure thing. Pigeons? I feed ‘em where I see ‘em and…

On the train back to Fitou from Barcelona yesterday there was a French couple sitting in front of me with their baby. Robert…

Before explaining the degree to which Barceloneta beach sucks, I should probably acknowledge that I am hardly a connoisseur of beaches. There are…

Mosquitos love me. From my earliest days they romped around me and delighted in my juices while ignoring the rest of my family….

Clay Russell