And Here I Was Thinking I Was Being So Original

The water meter guy came by yesterday to, not surprisingly, read our water meter. On the way back out from the nuclear bomb site that is our basement he paused by the shutter that Franck is in the middle of painting Indian blue.

“What a great colour,” he said, admiringly.

“It’ll probably shock a few people,” I answered, thinking back to the ruckus my lavender shutters caused in MagnylesVillers. “But anything is better than that horrible brown.”

“Oh no, it won’t shock anybody. It’s a true Burgundy blue.” He caressed the paint. “Oui, A real Burgundian blue.”

I didn’t even know Burgundy had a blue. I thought its colours were…well, Burgundy, with a bit of yellow thrown in for good measure.

And here I was thinking I had chosen an exotic Indian blue, and that I would be introducing a strikingly original colour to my village.

I should have known that all paths lead back to Burgundy.